Forever and For Always
by Alanna22039
Summary: What would have happened if Jonathan and Alanna hadn't fought in the desert? AJ. Flames and raves accepted. Rated T for some minor language. Edit, not update -- Chapters 12 and 13 edited and condensed. And ignore the numbering issues, I'm working on it.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I know that I posted this before, but one of my editors caught a lot of mistakes, so here is the revised version. To quote her: "It wasn't a lot of mistakes! It was underdeveloped." Hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

Forever and For Always

Chapter 1

The day was hot and windy already, even though the sun had just come up. Sand whipped across the barren landscape with the wind. A small group of tents was visible from which came the clanking and clatter of people going about their early-morning-in-the-desert routines. The small black cat grumbled, annoyed. The sand in his beautiful coat was driving him crazy. The cat started to strut towards his mistress's tent to see if she, her serving-man, Coram, and of course the cat could leave this dusty-musty, gritty place yet. They had, after all, stayed here almost seven months without doing anything. Now that his mistress, Alanna by name, had finished training the young, new shamans and the Prince had successfully become the Voice of the Tribes, the cat saw no reason as to why Alanna couldn't move on.

The cat saw his goal up ahead, and gladly moved into its beautiful shade. A deep, baritone voice rang through the tent. The owner of the voice might have been whispering, but it was a small tent, and sound carried easily. _Well, alright,_ the cat thought,_ it's bigger than some tents here, with three "rooms", but it's still not as big as the shamans' tent._ The "rooms" to which the cat was referring were actually just parts of the tent divided by curtains, which had been, in the main, woven by the women of the tribe. There was the main room, which the cat was now gratefully standing in, a small dressing room, and the bedroom, from which the baritone voice was issuing. The cat paid attention to what was being said. "Alanna, my love, it's time to get going."

_Going?_ the cat wondered. Then he remembered: the Prince, Jonathan, had told Alanna that he and her adoptive father, Myles, were heading back to the capital city of Tortall, Corus, today. He had also invited Alanna to come back with him as his betrothed.

At first, Alanna had hesitated at Jonathan's proposal because she had been unsure of whether the King and Queen would agree to Jonathan's choice of a wife, as she had created a scandal by becoming the first female knight in over 400 years after eight years of masquerading as a boy. On top of it all, she had killed the King's nephew, the popular Duke Roger of Conté for his plot to kill the Queen with a wax image. But Jon had said he was confident that he could get his parents to agree to the marriage, and Alanna had happily accepted.

A muffled squeal came from the other side of the curtain, from the bedroom, as Jonathan did whatever he was doing to waken Alanna. A yell, this time from a (rather groggy) soprano voice, pealed throughout the tent, "NO tickling! Wake me any other way if you must, but _no_ tickling."

"What, the Lady Knight can't stand to be tickled? That doesn't seem to fit with the epithet 'the Lioness' at all," Jonathan said in an amused voice.

"Oh hush. You know perfectly well…_I said no tickling, dammit!_ And it's not funny either! Besides, I thought you said we had to get going."

"I thought you were asleep when I said that."

"No, just wishing I was. I didn't want to wake you either, you looked comfortable. By the way, have you seen Faithful this morning?" The cat started walking towards the "bedroom."

"I haven't seen him, and I was comfortable. I'm still comfortable, actually. Why were you looking for Faithful?"

"Generally, it's _him_ that wakes me up by tickling me."

"I think I finally understand why he does, too. It's highly amusing to watch you try to avoid being tickled."

"Funnily enough, I don't see anyone else laughing. Morning, Faithful." Faithful purred, then stuck his cold, wet nose in Alanna's ear, his own form of a morning greeting. Meanwhile, Jonathan said in a mock-hurt voice, "My ears must be deceiving me. I could have sworn I just heard you wish a good morning to someone, even if that someone's the cat. _I_ don't even get a 'good morning' from you."

_I am **NOT "**just" a cat! Now, get over here and pet me,_ Faithful cried indignantly, his purple eyes flashing. Both Jonathan and Alanna laughed, hearing Faithful's telepathic voice, the only way he could communicate with humans that they would actually understand. Jonathan reached over and scratched Faithful behind the ears, while Alanna got up and moved off towards the dressing room.

"I didn't wish him 'good morning,' dear one. I just said 'Morning.' You assumed I meant a good morning _again_. You know that I think 'good morning' is an oxymoron," Alanna called back to Jon.

"I'd forgotten that," Jonathan admitted. "But we should leave soon, as in about half an hour from now. That way we have several hours of cool riding before midday. I asked Kara and Kourrem to pack for you…" Jon lapsed into silence, running through his plan again. If they rode to Corus in the coolest parts of the day, they would go much quicker, and also suffer less heat stroke. The sun in the desert could be cruel when it reached its zenith.

Jonathan was broken from his reverie by Alanna's reply. "Thank you, love. I'm still not used to people serving me though."

"You'll adjust. And then, knowing you, you'll wonder how you ever lived before. But doesn't Coram count as a servant?" Alanna came back into the bedroom and sat next to Jon, leaning into his embrace, with her arms around her knees.

"Not really. Neither does Maude, for that matter. It's mainly because Coram and Maude basically raised Thom and me after Mom died and Dad buried himself in thousand-year-old, dusty, moldy manuscripts, like the Rylkal Document. I don't think he got to research a quarter of them to be honest with you. The Rylkal Document was one of the first on his list to research, and he didn't even finish that one. What? It's true!" Jonathan had just started sniggering, and then laughing. When he finally managed to speak, though his eyes were still streaming with tears of laughter, it was in a strained voice.

"I love the description of your father!"

"No seriously, Thom and I were trying to spy on Dad and see why he was avoiding us. I say 'try' because we couldn't see him for all the papers he'd stuffed his study with. Thom and I didn't understand how he could read some of them because they were completely covered in mold and dust. Coram could tell you the whole story. He caught us and grounded us from the outside for a month."

"I can't see you taking that too calmly, I must say."

"Whoever said I took it calmly? Actually, I think I shouted myself hoarse. Oh, and I blamed the entire thing on Thom too. I apologized later, but I was miserable inside."

"I wasn't making fun earlier."

"I know that," Alanna interrupted. Jonathan covered her mouth with his hand.

"I just thought you were finally expressing what you truly thought of your father." He uncovered her mouth and kissed her.

"Nope. That I _refuse_ to say aloud. Coram might have taught me to cuss like a sailor, but I think I'll cuss my father out in silence, thanks."

Jon chuckled. "I feel sorry for him, with you cursing him." There was a thump and a yelp. Faithful, who had moved back out into the main room in the hopes of going to breakfast soon, wasn't sure what had happened. Jon's breathless laughter carried throughout the tent. _Oh. She hit him with a pillow. Alright. Tortall would be in dire straights if Alanna killed the Prince over his teasing her._

Alanna came out into the main room. She was a short woman, who stood about five feet, six inches, with flaming red hair, and eyes that were an interesting shade of amethyst, just like Faithful's. She had a small nose and full lips. She was wearing one of the thinner cotton shirts that she had taken to wearing out here in the desert and breeches, and one of the burnooses that the tribe had given her on her acceptance into the tribe. "Come on, Faithful. Let's got find breakfast so we can leave," Alanna said quietly to him. _FINALLY!_ Faithful shouted (telepathically of course) as he jumped onto her shoulders. She might have spoken quietly, but her voice had carried anyway. Jon came out in a light shirt and breeches.

The Prince was an extremely good looking man, in most people's opinions. He was tall, standing about six feet, four inches, with jet black hair, and sapphire blue eyes. His complexion completely contrasted with his hair. He wore little jewelry, only a ring on his right ring finger, and his clothes were plain. The fact that his clothes were well made, and the few jewels he wore were costly was instantly obvious. He also had an air of command about him – maybe that had just come from being the Prince and always having servants at his beck and call.

"Oh, so the cat gets the invitation to breakfast, not me. I'm so hurt," Jonathan teased.

"You can get your own breakfast," came the response. Alanna waited for him to get ready anyway, which only took about two minutes.

Despite the short wait, Alanna teased Jon when he came out, "Faithful and I could have eaten breakfast, met up with Myles, and gotten the horses ready by now." At first, Jonathan thought she was reprimanding him, but then he saw the twinkle in her eye.

"Sorry, love," he said, kissing her. "But you know how long it takes me to get ready!"

"Just do me a favor, and try to avoid becoming Delia. Well, an admittedly handsome and lovable form of Delia, but just don't turn into a snob on me."

"Was that a compliment, or an insult?" Jon asked dryly, as they stepped out of the tent.

"It was meant to be a request. But you take it any way you like, so long as it means you aren't angry with me," Alanna responded, kissing him back.

"There you two are! I was wondering if you would wake up today!" Faithful, still sitting on Alanna's shoulder, saw that the man speaking was short, with a good-natured face, and brown hair that was, just now, sleep mussed. His clothes were wrinkled from having slept in them (_Again_, thought an exasperated Faithful) in a drunken stupor – _He must have had too much of the date wine last night, and he didn't share any with me!_ Faithful thought wryly. Last night, everyone had a late night because last night had been Jonathan's ordeal to become the Voice of the Tribes, so everyone had stayed up late celebrating. Luckily, Jonathan had caught up to Myles before he got too drunk, and made plans for leaving today. Apparently, Jonathan had mentioned that Alanna might be coming as well, for Myles didn't look surprised to see Alanna with Jon, but Jonathan hadn't proposed to her until after planning with Myles.

Faithful was brought back to reality by the sound of his mistress's voice. Alanna must have just studied Myles as closely as Faithful had himself, though much quicker.

"What about you, Myles? It doesn't look as though you stretched yourself to get up early this morning. Or do you need my hangover remedy?"

"While it wouldn't go amiss, the only problem was I missed my alarm clock going off. You young people have no excuse to sleep in late. Let's go get something to eat." The three friends started to walk towards the "mess tent" for breakfast, maintaining carefully measured distances, for men did not touch women, in public, in the Bazhir society.

"Don't change the subject so quickly. You'll make it look like you're afraid to admit you brought your alarm clock to the desert," Alanna teased. Then she saw the look on Myles' face. "Goodness, you didn't bring your alarm clock, did you?" Alanna asked as though afraid to hear the answer.

"Alanna, I'm afraid to admit he did. Actually, it was a bit of a pain on the trip south."

"I'll bet it was for you. It wouldn't have bothered me. But then again, I never even thought you would think of taking that stupid clock with you, Myles," Alanna commented.

"I don't see why you complain, Jonathan. We made the trip down here faster than we ever have before, thanks to my clock." Having arrived at the "mess tent," Jonathan ordered (_Well, more like asked with a touch of authority_, Alanna thought) some food to be prepared for four people.

Faithful grumbled, so only Alanna could hear him. _I thought we were eating before we left, and how about some date wine to start the day off right?_

"We would have, Faithful, if we weren't late. That's the only problem with sleeping in — you're late to everything. But we do have to speed things up if we're going to have even an hour of cool riding, Jon," Alanna responded.

"I know, dearest. Coram should be coming with the horses now. Ah, here he is."

_And thus starts the return journey to Corus_, Alanna thought as they all mounted their respective mounts.

Jonathan noticed that Alanna was falling silent. "Don't worry, Alanna. You'll be fine. I meant to tell you last night, in Father's last letter, he said he would be glad to see you at Court again. Apparently his regard for you has changed quite a bit since you came south. For once, you made the smart move in getting away from Court…" Jonathan grinned and ducked as Alanna swatted (or tried to swat) his head. He caught her hand and kissed it, socially acceptable or not.

After watching this exchange, Myles commented, "Are you sure you want to go through with the marriage, Jonathan? Alanna will keep your hands full. You'll explode if you have to govern the country as well."

"Oh what a kind and loving father you are, Myles. Insulting your daughter. I'm so hurt." Alanna kicked her horse, Moonlight, into a gallop, as they were now a safe enough distance from the village that Alanna didn't run any risk of knocking down any tents. Jon went after her, and Myles and Coram both rolled their eyes.

Two days later, the group reentered Corus. "Back t' civilization," Coram muttered.

"I thought you liked the Bazhir, Coram?" Alanna remarked.

"I do, but I miss my feather bed all th' same," Coram retorted. "And also, I wouldn' mind getting away from…well, never mind."

"Finish the sentence, Coram."

"Wha' if I refuse?"

"What if I just happen to make you see hallucinations? I can still do it, you know."

"Yeh wouldn'," Coram spluttered, aghast.

"Whoever said that I wouldn't?" Alanna retorted. "I never did, certainly."

"So, that's how you control him?" Jon asked Alanna, grinning.

"She will you too, lad," Coram mumbled.

"What was that, Coram?" Alanna asked, with every hint that Coram was over stepping his boundaries sounding in her voice.

"Nothin', lass," Coram called quickly to his knight-mistress.

"Then shut up. To answer your question, Jon, yes, he's much easier to manipulate that way," she grinned back at Jon.

"I resen' tha' comment," Coram told her indignantly.

"No, Coram, you resemble it," Alanna corrected him.

Upon approaching the Palace Way, two large, fast-moving objects collided with Alanna. "We heard you were coming home!" Gary exclaimed.

"Well, now that I'm back, am I allowed to breathe?" Alanna asked Gary, panting from the effort of breathing through an almost literally back-breaking hug.

"Yeah, seriously Gary, she's turning as purple as her eyes are," Raoul quipped. "Glad to see you Fire Hair."

"I'm glad to see you too, and would you please stop calling me that idiotic nickname? I thought we'd established the fact that I have red hair years ago. Maybe that was just my imagination, though." Everyone laughed.

"So why are you here, Gary?" Jonathan inquired, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, your father heard you were back and, oh what's the word I'm looking for, oh yes, _demanded_ that you be escorted through the city, or as much of it as is possible at this late stage."

"And I'll believe that the day that Delia declares undying love for you, Gary," Jon told his cousin. "Since when have you ever had to search for the word 'demanded'? I remember you exemplifying it quite a bit."

"I will see you lot at the palace later," Myles interrupted, before Gary had the chance to make a snappy retort that could be taken the wrong way. Gary, at least from Myles' perspective, still had a lot of lessons to learn about tact and thinking before speaking. "I'm going to my town house to see how everything has fared during my absence."

Polite variations of "Well, see you later then, Myles" were chanted at the older knight.

After Myles left, Coram asked to go on ahead to the palace and see that everything (at least for Alanna) was unpacked before the group got there. Alanna raised her eyebrows at him in a bemused way and commented, "You haven't done that for me since, let me think, I was three, at the latest."

"Well, I didn' think I'd need t' be remindin' yeh tha' some things have changed in th' past week." Gary and Raoul looked at each other – Coram couldn't possibly mean what they thought he meant.

"Let me ask you a quick question: how are you going to unpack my things when I have them in my saddlebags?" Jonathan, Gary, and Raoul were all determinedly not looking at each other.

Faithful piped up, _Enough with the long greetings – I want a bath and,_ (He dug his claws into Moonlight's saddle) _DINNER!_

"I'll see yeh all later," called an embarrassed Coram.

The newly modified party moved towards the palace, catching up on news, although the subject of Jonathan's proposal to Alanna was not touched.

When they reached the palace stables, Jonathan, Gary, and Raoul dismounted. Jonathan went to help Alanna down but found her already down and taking care of Moonlight. He noticed that she was walking away to Moonlight's stall without paying attention to anything behind her. Faithful sauntered past without a backward glance, to find dinner, no doubt. Jonathanwalked up quickly and quietly behind Alanna and grabbed her waist from behind. Alanna screamed like Delia would if she were doused in a bucket of ice water, surprising a laugh out of Jonathan.

After being grabbed from behind, Alanna turned expecting to find Gary grinning mischievously, not Jonathan, with tears in his eyes from laughter. "Do that again, and you'll find your life taking a most unpleasant turn," she told him.

"I'd be more worried about Gary pulling a prank on me than you," Jon responded, kissing her.

"Jon, you might want to change your priorities," Gary called from his horse's stall, as Alanna slid by the Prince to stable Moonlight. "You didn't see the prank she pulled on me when she was sixteen."

"Oh no, what did you do now?" Jon asked Alanna.

"Let Gary finish, rude one," Alanna teased.

"Anyway, she submarined me, I can't even remember why now."

"I told you not to tick me off, Gary, but you did anyway. You deserved what you got." Jonathan gave Gary a questioning look.

"She did the whole nine yards – you know, the oil, my shaving cream, water balloons, and the rest – I forget, did you use the honey and molasses, Alanna?"

"Yes, I did," said Alanna grinning at the memory. "Frankly, I'm still amazed that I didn't get caught with the oil, the honey, and the molasses."

Raoul interrupted, "No, I took the blame and the punishment work."

"Sorry about that, Raoul. I thought that Gary would have figured out it was me immediately, and I didn't know that anyone had to serve punishment duty for it. By the way Gary, I never found out – how hard was it for you to walk across your room that morning?"

"Well, by the time I got to my dressing room, I'd been soaked, and broken three toes from slipping into the feet of my bed, and…"

"The water balloons did their job then. I'm still not sorry that it's my fault you broke your toes. I _did_ warn you not to tick me off."

Jonathan, chuckling, told Alanna, "Remind me to stay on your good side."

"I thought Gary just had," Alanna replied dryly. Alanna walked out, having just finished currying Moonlight. Faithful jumped from the hay in Moonlight's stall to Alanna's shoulders – or tried. He missed by about a yard, for Jonathan had just swept Alanna up in a passionate kiss. Faithful called to the Prince, _Put her down, and get the wine._

Gary, who was waiting by the stable entrance with Raoul, called to his cousin, "So are you going to pop the question, or are Raoul and I going to die of old age and anticipation?"

"Die of impatience, more like. And you'll be alone," Raoul muttered, at which Alanna laughed.

Jonathan glared at Gary. "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I already asked her? And I would appreciate it if you stopped interrogating me about it every time you see me."

"Sorry, Jon."

"Yes, I'm sure you are. Let's go, love. We'd better go meet my parents. Father must be worried if he sent Gary and Raoul to see us here. Somehow, I don't think he did, but there you are." Jonathan kissed Alanna.

"I've been ready to go. I've just been waiting for you."

_And when is dinner going to be served?_

"Sorry."

_DINNER!_

"Don't apologize for everything."

_He can apologize about dinner!_

Alanna continued, ignoring her cat, "It gets annoying after a while, for one thing, and for another, not everything is your fault. But never mind that now, let's go." Alanna left the stables, not waiting for Jonathan any longer. Jon went after her, rolling his eyes, and apparently caught up quickly, because not long after, Gary and Raoul heard Alanna shout, "Stop it, Jon! How many times to do I have to – _FOR GOODNESS' SAKE, NO TICKLING!_"

"Come on, we had better see to Faithful's dinner…" Jon was telling Alanna as their voices faded and they walked away.

Gary and Raoul started their own walk up to the palace. Gary was still thinking about Jon's question. "You don't think that he really _did_ ask her, do you?"

"You know she wouldn't come back so soon unless Jon had asked, and she had accepted. You know what she's like," Raoul answered thoughtfully.

"But there was no ring on her hand!" Gary protested.

"And I doubt she'll wear it until after she and Jon let Their Majesties know."

"That would be tradition; Alanna's a Court rebel. Why would she start following tradition now?"

"Probably because Jon asked her to. He's the only one who can…well…don't tell Alanna I said this…control her, if that's the right word. Actually, that's only because she lets him. She loves him, and he loves her, it's as simple as that."

"And yet, it took the both of them how long to figure that out?"

"Oh, they knew, they just wouldn't admit it. Isn't that their usual?"

"That it is. I've got to go see Cythera…"

"I'm going down to the practice courts. I doubt Alanna will be there yet, but there might be someone else up to a match."

**A/N: So, is it better this way, or the original way? Review and tell me... pretty please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Next chappie of revisions. My editor is mostly helping me with Faithful's personality -- apparently I don't portray cats as well as I do humans.**

**Disclaimer: I bow to Tamora Pierce's wisdom in writing the Song of the Lionness Quartet.**

Chapter 2

Alanna was lying on her bed stroking Faithful when Jon came back from a Council meeting. "You're not even back twelve hours, and your father sticks you back in politics," Alanna complained. "I wish he'd given at least a day of rest after two days of traveling."

Jonathan walked over to their bed, lay down upon it, pulled Alanna into his arms, and kissed her sweetly. "I know, love. Mother didn't agree either. Father thinks I've had enough time 'relaxing' as he calls it. If that's relaxation, I think I'll die of this repose before I ever become King."

"It can't be worse than what you live through now, can it?"

"You're probably right."

"I'm still not sure I'll make a good Queen someday."

"Relax, you'll be fine. You're smart enough to survive it without going insane."

"Why, does insanity run in your family or something?"

"No, you always told me it ran in yours."

"Haha, very funny."

"Yes, it was rather wasn't it?"

"No, not particularly," Alanna said bluntly. Jonathan feigned hurt feelings, and moved away from Alanna.

_You can scratch behind the left ear now,_ Faithful informed Alanna.

"Yes, I'm sure I just broke your heart. Or at least I will."

"I'm quaking at the thought."

"Actually, you probably should be, from what Gary said today."

_I believe I said "Left ear" not "whiskers."_

"I don't care what Gary says," Jonathan told her loftily.

"You don't?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, maybe a bit," Jon compromised. Alanna laughed.

_Ahh,_ Faithful purred, rubbing his head against Alanna's hand.

"I love you, despite the fact that you're incorrigible."

"I wouldn't use that precise word, but I love you too." Jon pulled her into his arms again, and kissed her sweetly.

**A/N: What'cha think?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter of revisions. Guess Faithful needed more help than I thought...**

**Disclaimer: We all know the drill. Not mine.**

Chapter 3

"Ready?" Jonathan asked Alanna.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's get this over with, please." Jonathan noticed that she was paler than normal. _She must be more nervous than I thought_, Jon realized as Alanna smoothed her lilac silk skirts.

"Alanna, relax," he told her, pulling her into his arms. "You'll be fine. You can't honestly be scared."

"Not scared, precisely, just really nervous."

"Why?"

"Because I'm still afraid he'll take my shield away." Jon smiled with understanding.

"Don't worry. He stopped thinking about doing that as soon as you removed yourself from Court."

"Really?"

"Really. Actually, at first, I think he was just following the old adage 'Out of sight is out of mind,' but since you didn't try to force him to accept you, he got over it."

"Can we please just get this over with? You're not exactly inspiring my confidence right now."

"All right, but relax! Someone would think your going to the gallows with how stiff you are."

"Aren't I? I'm sorry."

"No problem," he said kissing her. "Here goes." He knocked twice on the door to his father's study.

"Enter."

"Come on," Jonathan whispered, leading his fiancée. He held her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. The royal study was one room Alanna had never visited in all her years of living at the Palace. It was a beautifully elegant room. A soft Tyran rug covered the stone flagged floor. Comfortable seats sat in front of a handsome wooden desk. There was a marble fireplace on the wall opposite the door to guard against winter's chill, though there was no fire lit there now. Alanna knew there would be a roaring fire there come winter.

"Jonathan, you asked to see me," King Roald's voice broke Alanna out of her reverie. "I was rather shocked – this is most unusual."

"I know this is unusual, Father, but this won't take long either. It is also of great importance," Jonathan answered his father.

"Then, if this mysterious matter is so important, why bring this beautiful young lady?" the King asked, though he thought he knew.

"It concerns her greatly. I have asked for her hand in marriage, and she has agreed."

The King smiled widely at the young couple. His suspicions had been correct. "I am truly happy for the both of you."

"Thank you, sire," Alanna whispered curtsying and taking a step closer towards Jon. Jonathan had to work very hard to keep his face straight. His father cracked a grin. The source of amusement was obvious – Alanna _never_ curtsied.

"If that is all, you are both dismissed," Roald said, still grinning. "By the way, Jonathan, make sure to tell your mother – she'll be thrilled." Jon's smile faded as he winced at the thought of telling his mother of his engagement.

"What's wrong, Jon?" Alanna whispered, as they left the King's study.

"I had truly hoped that Father would tell her for us. She'll be frightful," he said, shuddering, but just as quietly.

"How do you mean?" she asked a little bit louder, as Jon shut the door to his father's study.

"She'll be so enthusiastic that she'll drive you dizzy. I should mention that when she makes you dizzy, it's almost impossible to remember who you are."

"I see what you mean," Alanna said laughing. "It's what I have to deal with any time Coram approves of my romances."

"I thought I was the first," Jon said, faking hurt feelings.

"No, I had a crush on a cute commoner kid at Trebond when I was little. I'm glad Coram disapproved of that one, because the kid turned out to be a complete jerk," she admitted.

"In that case, I'll talk to Mother, if you want me to," Jon offered, kissing her.

"Would you?" Alanna asked. "I'd probably say or do absolutely the wrong thing." Jon laughed.

"Anything for you, love," he replied, kissing her again. "I still think you underestimate your diplomacy skills. You can be persuasive when you want. Anyway, we'd better get going to dinner. If we skip, Gary and Raoul will be murderous. So would Geoff, Doug, and Sacherell for that matter. And there's the fear of a certain wrathful cat, as well."

"Geoff, Doug, and Sacherell are here? I thought they were at the Scanran border," Alanna commented. "Didn't they go up there right after getting their shields?"

"They did, but the conflict ended about four months ago, right after I left for the desert."

"You know, skipping dinner is sounding like a good plan, especially since Doug and Sacherell will be there. With those two idiots there, who knows if you'll survive intact? Doug's more vulgar than I am…well, I only cuss, but he's a lot worse than I am." Jonathan started to laugh.

"You're cruel, did you know? But maybe he'll be calmer tonight – he might be so shocked by seeing your ring that he'll shut up."

"One can only hope. Besides, Faithful will be sorely put out not to have a new audience."

"I love you, if only because you make me laugh," he told her, still laughing. He kissed her again.

"I love you too, Jon."

**A/N: A penny for your thoughts?**


	4. Chapter 4

**All right, my editor is probably going to have me revise every chappie. Just a heads up...**

**Disclaimer: Evil Twin: This all belongs to Alanna22039**

**Me: No, it doesn't!**

**Evil Twin: Yes it does! All because I said so! Muahahaha!**

**Me: Oh no! Now I'm going to get in trouble again. Everyone, this is Tamora Pierce's story, with my plot twists.**

Chapter 4

Dinner that night was an enjoyable affair. Everyone was happy, saying it was a lesson to Alanna on how to keep her temper in check, at which, for once, Alanna laughed. Several of the young knights, Jonathan and Gary included, were sitting next to their own fiancées. Gary announced his engagement to Cythera of Elden that night. Douglass of Veldine, as Jonathan had threatened, saw Alanna's engagement ring and shut up for a full five minutes, and stopped teasing her about her choice of wearing a dress to dinner.

There was a slightly tense moment when Delia of Eldorne, one of Jonathan's former lovers, walked past the table. She was known for pulling small, petty pranks on Alanna, none of which had actually succeeded. Tonight, she kept her nastiness down to a dirty glare at Jonathan and the ring on Alanna's right hand. It was obvious to everyone at the table that she was thinking she should, by right, be sitting in Alanna's place. Faithful (who had come down to dinner with Jonathan and Alanna) sauntered up the table with jaunty tail, disdaining to notice the tension in the room. The moment passed when Alanna's twin brother, Lord Thom of Trebond, the youngest living Master of the Mithran Light, a trained sorcerer, saw his sister, passed her, did a double take, and ran to hug Alanna. He tripped over the bench that Raoul and Gary were sitting on, and went sprawling, stopping at his twin's feet. Alanna had stood, expecting Thom to run to hug her, and be a klutz somehow. He truly hadn't changed since she had last seen him. Everyone promptly started laughing.

Thom glared at his twin. "I don't normally do this," he informed her.

"Really?" she asked innocently. "As I recall, you've always been klutz. That's kind of how I ended up dunking in the duck pond at Trebond in the first place. It was a fitting revenge, sure, but I didn't really intend for it to happen. However, I must admit, it was worth coming home just to see you abase yourself at my feet."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you came home just to see me make a fool of myself. Anyway, I see you've gained a new piece of jewelry. Congratulations." Thom stumbled up.

"No, I didn't come home just to see you make a fool of yourself, but I won't say it wasn't entertaining. By the way, you're the only person I know who can make 'Congrats, Alanna!' sound like a reprimand."

"Sorry about that. I'm just glad you're home, dearest sister mine. Jonathan, do you mind if I borrow her for a moment's conversation?"

"Go ahead," Jon said smiling as Thom started literally dragging his twin across the room to a nearby, small courtyard. Faithful followed Alanna.

"'Dearest sister mine'? I'm your only sister, so why would you say 'dearest sister'?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Thom said dryly. "I know it's hard to believe I'd notice anything with my nose stuck in a book all the time, but I did notice the fact that you're my only sibling."

"Oh, so you finally learned to see? Took you long enough," Alanna teased.

"I resent that comment, and of course your reply will be –

"

"No, you resemble it," the twins said together.

"I'd better get going. Jon will be quite jealous that you've had me all to yourself all this time," Alanna told her brother.

"What's he got to be jealous of?" Thom asked, shocked. "I doubt anyone else would be able to survive marriage with you! Ouch! Why do you always have to kick my shins?"

"'Cause I can reach them," Alanna told her twin wickedly.

"Well, I can see becoming engaged hasn't softened your kicks any," Thom remarked dryly.

"Did you expect it to?" Alanna asked, her voice matching Thom's in dryness. Faithful listened to the siblings rib each other as he toyed with a thread.

"Not really. I just hoped. Well, that's a bit of hope wasted. Oh well. I'll survive. I love you, sister mine. Oh, and if you're planning to pull any revengeful pranks on me, they won't work," Thom informed his sister.

"Why would my pranks on you be revengeful? And why won't pranks work? You forget that I know how to get around security spells."

"Except when they've just been invented to stop someone who thinks exactly as you do, dear twin. The only problem with me being your twin is I know all your weaknesses quite well."

"All right, all right, don't rub it in. And I wouldn't count on that, coincidentally. By the way, Faithful, what are you doing?"

_Merely toying with loose threads,_ Faithful responded as Thom looked down at him in surprise.

"I didn't realize he'd followed us. Goodnight, Alanna."

Alanna waved to her brother, noting her brother's battered hem, and walked back inside where Jonathan was waiting for her, outside the banquet hall. He pulled her close, telling her, "I see your brother didn't take the engagement too badly."

"No, why would he?"

"Apparently, right before I left for the desert, Thom was saying that he'd turn any of your suitors, other than George anyway, into a toad in a patch of grass filled with garden snakes."

"Ouch. That was rude of him," Alanna remarked. "I can talk to him tomorrow if you'd like," Alanna told her fiancé, kissing him.

"So long as I don't end up as a toad, let it rest," Jon advised her.

"Actually, I'm not really sure what he thought of the engagement. He never really said, and he got good at being secretive and hiding his feelings in the City of the Gods."

"Like I said, let it rest for now. I just wanted assurance, which I see I'm not going to get for a while, that I won't end up as a toad sometime soon." Alanna laughed.

**A/N: D'you like it? Or should it have stayed the way it originally was?**


	5. Chapter 5

**We are halfway through the revisions, I promise! For those of you who are looking for someone to attack in the delay of more chapters in the story, attack my editor. I forgot to give you permission to do that last night.**

**Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce controls my life. I could never steal one of her stories, no matter how hard I tried.**

Chapter 5

The next morning, after Jonathan had disappeared to another Council meeting, Alanna went down to the practice courts to see if anyone was up to a fencing match. She left a message for Jonathan, telling him where she was, in case he got back from the meeting early. She walked down to the courts, quickly, and met Gary and Raoul waiting for her at the entrance.

"Thought you'd be down here before long," Raoul told her, finishing warming up. Alanna grinned in reply.

"Gary, I'm surprised to see you down here. I thought you were supposed to be at the Council meeting," she called over.

"Good morning to you too, Alanna. And no, I'm not late, though I'm touched that you're concerned for me. I was told I didn't have to show up until after lunch."

"Gary, how could you forget? 'Good morning' is an oxymoron – there are no good mornings, only better ones." Gary grinned at her.

"Cynical. How could such a young knight be so cynical?" Gary quipped. "Come on, let's find a private gallery, shall we?"

"Oh, and you aren't _ever_ cynical, are you Gary?" Raoul asked sarcastically as they arrived at the fencing gallery. "If she's cynical, I swear, you taught her."

"Oh thank you anytime for standing up for me," Alanna simpered at Raoul. "But honestly, I _can_ defend myself, unlike your average damsel in distress. Gary, I advise you to take your comment back, or make me force it down your throat for you."

"Is that a challenge?" Gary asked coolly.

"Why, yes, I do believe it is," Alanna answered.

Gary and Alanna move to the center of the court and took up the "guard" position. After five fast and furious minutes, Gary's sword went flying across the room, straight over Raoul's shoulder, and landed on the floor with a surprisingly loud crash.

"Oops," Alanna winced. "I didn't mean for that to happen. Sorry, Raoul."

Raoul, who was laughing, just said, "It's all right, Alanna. Just make sure it goes a little bit higher the next time you try to decapitate me."

"Please tell me you're being sarcastic. You sound like you've got a psychotic death wish."

Raoul laughed. "Nope, no sarcasm here."

"Haha, very funny. Don't scare me like that," Alanna scolded her friend.

"Did I hear the voice of Alanna the Lioness?" asked a simpering voice. To Alanna, it sounded as though it were a drink laced with poison. It was the voice of her one-time companion, Alexander of Tirragen. He had been Duke Roger's squire when Alanna was page. It had been at the time that Alex became Roger's squire when Alanna had become suspicious of him, and their friendship had fallen apart, especially after a "mock duel" in which Alex had nearly murdered her with a blunt practice sword.

"Yes, Alex, you heard me," Alanna responded coolly.

"How charming to see you've come back to court. I thought you were hiding from the King's wrath after killing Duke Roger," Alex remarked sarcastically.

"I hide from no one, Alexander of Tirragen," Alanna spat out, her animosity quite apparent in her voice. Raoul and Gary looked from Alanna to Alex, at a loss to understand what was going on. Alex had always liked Alanna well – maybe he had only liked her because she had as much skill with at fencing, if not more, as he did.

Gary thought about the days when Alex had been able to joke around with Alanna, without any hint of a threat towards her. In those days, Alex had almost been like an older brother to her – well, they all had been – Gary, Raoul, Jonathan, and Alex. Alex had often helped her with math homework, in exchange for her help in history. Many of her friends attributed her passing grades in math to Alex's (and later Jonathan's) help, which was probably true. Thinking back, Gary realized that those days were all before Alex had become Roger's squire. Since that time, Alex had slowly started shutting all of his "friends" out of his life – and with that strange knack of picking up on suspicious happenings, Alanna had stopped truly trusting Alex at that point.

When she had introduced Raoul to George, the Tortallan King of Thieves, Jon and Gary had both thought that she would soon introduce Alex, but days passed without Alanna mentioning bringing Alex on a trip to meet George. Now that Gary thought about it, she must have not wanted to introduce Alex at all – she must have judged him to be not trustworthy enough. Not that she had ever spoken up about not bringing Alex, she just never even mentioned it. She didn't even have to say that she didn't want Alex presented to George – Alex had been "too busy" to spend much time with his old friends. Gary suddenly understood that the only time Alanna had been around Alex (without at least two other people there, including Faithful) since he had become Roger's squire was the occasion on which Alex had tried to kill her, but ended up only breaking her collarbone.

Raoul just looked back and forth between his two friends, as if watching an extremely interesting and disgusting, but entirely invisible, tennis match. He was completely bewildered by how Alex and Alanna were behaving. They'd always been friends, so what was going on? Looking at Alanna again, he saw her knuckles were white where she clenched her sword, and he was sure that if someone stuck a piece of wood in front of Alanna's eyes, it would incinerate to ashes in seconds.

The tension grew as long minutes passed without Alex doing anything but study Alanna. Finally, he burst out, "Gods all damn you, bitch!" Raoul and Gary both flinched – they had never heard Alex use such harsh language before. _Normally, it's Alanna who curses,_ Gary thought. But he stopped thinking to listen, as Alex had kept speaking. "Challenge me, why don't you? I'll prove once and for all that your defeat of Roger was just a fluke."

"I'm sure the second best fencer of the century just a warm-up act as compared to you," Alanna replied sarcastically. "Anyway, before I give you my answer, I have a slight problem – actually, it might answer your question. Alex, you're trying to make me look like the aggressor. Why did you just challenge me? Admittedly, it was an odd formula for a challenge, but everyone here knows a challenge when they hear one, no matter how bizarre it sounds."

"How _dare_ you reprimand me, whore?" Alex asked furiously.

"How dare _I_, Alex? I dare to reprimand you because I know what your plans are, and someone has to reprimand you for the waste of humanity you've allowed yourself to become," Alanna told him, with, Gary noticed, honest concern and pity for her old friend shining in her eyes. In fact, her eyes were glassy with tears. "Or, at least I know what your plans were before I killed Roger. You've been involved in his plans since he made you his squire, haven't you? And, of course, Delia's been in on the plan since she came to Court, flirting and toying with the men Roger wanted out of the way of his plans – or at least the younger men he wanted out of the way. I really don't think Roger would've been foolish enough to try and use her on someone like Duke Gareth, do you?" Alex gagged. "I thought so," Alanna whispered. "There's another person involved as well, isn't there? Someone working in the Court of the Rogue to set up the revolt in Port Caynn against the King of Thieves, the same person who's holding the Court of the Rogue down while the Rogue himself is in Port Caynn." Alex's face momentarily was flushed with shock and fear before he masked it.

"Your suspicions mean nothing, chit. I challenge you to a duel here and now with your two only friends to witness your demise."

"So, is this an honest challenge, or just a convenient way to dispose of me?" Alanna asked.

"You already know the answer." Alex growled.

"Well, again, you're right, I do know the answer. I was just making sure that I was indeed correct. Gods only know, I wouldn't want to make a crucial mistake in walking away from a challenge this late in my career," Alanna commented, with a blank face.

A voice spoke from the bleachers surrounding the gallery: "I think you're wrong in the count of Alanna's friends, Alex." Everyone whipped around to see Jonathan walking calmly down the stairs by the bleachers to the gallery floor. He had arrived at the beginning of Alanna's accusations of Alex, and everyone had been concentrating too much on Alanna's conversation with Alex to notice him slip in. He had gotten out of the Council meeting early, as Alanna had anticipated. He had only gotten out because Roald had decided he had done enough work lately. Apparently, the King had gotten reports saying that the "renegade" Bazhir tribes were no longer fighting the Tortallan army and had worked out that it had something to do with Jonathan's recent trip to the desert. Jonathan had stopped by the rooms he shared with Alanna, found her note, and come down to eat lunch with her, and to tell Gary that he was expected at the meeting.

His purposes for coming down to the gallery were momentarily forgotten as he heard Alanna's accusations. He walked down to stand behind Alanna, one hand on her waist, mainly to keep her from doing anything rash. "I see three of her numerous friends here. And so long as we're counting supporters, where are yours? Three to zero makes the aggressor look bad, as I recall." Alex glared at the Prince.

"Well, I can see that she's convinced you all that she's innocent," Alex remarked. "However did you manage it, Alanna? Surely, you weren't sleeping around before you got your shield, or word would have gone to the King that a girl was training to be a knight, so you can understand why I'm at loss to understand how you convinced everyone of your innocence."

"You know, Alex, for someone that Mithrans called 'brilliant mathematician and poet,' you have a surprising lack of originality," Alanna told him, her face and voice displaying nothing but calm.

Gary finally spoke up, saying, "If you're trying to goad Alanna, you're going to need more than weak insults, Alex." Jonathan started walking with Alanna towards the door he'd entered by, one hand still on her waist. She still held her sword, Lightning, in her left hand. Suspecting trouble, both of them turned back toward the center of the gallery just as they reached the steps.

Alex was saying, "You're right, Gareth, I will need more than insults to force Alanna into this duel. Excuse me if this hurts." With that, he cracked Gary's skull with the hilt of his sword. Raoul scrambled for the sword he hadn't brought to the fencing gallery with him – he'd been planning to use Gary's practice sword to fight Alanna originally – as Alanna broke out of Jonathan's grip to run back at Alex, bringing up her sword as she ran, fury written all over her face. Raoul and Jonathan watched as Gary dropped to the gallery floor, seemingly in slow motion.

"Alanna, do something!" both Jonathan and Raoul shouted to her, in unison.

"I am! Would one of you take care of Gary while I'm otherwise occupied? Thanks!" Alanna called back quickly.

Alex crossed the distance remaining between himself and Alanna in two strides and immediately forced her to engage in a duel. Raoul had thought that Alanna's match against Gary had been fast and furious. That had been just to remind Gary not to insult her. This match was ten times faster and more furious – Raoul couldn't even see the swords anymore, they were just silver blurs on the air, as were Alex and Alanna. The only reason that Raoul could tell them apart was that one the blurs was taller, and the other looked like a flame at the top – _Good ol' Fire-top_, Raoul thought shaking his head.

"Raoul, can you help me move Gary? We need to get him out of the way of the duel," Jonathan called over. Raoul was shaken from his incessant study of the duel.

"Coming," Raoul answered, walking over to where Jon was bending over his cousin. Together the two friends moved Gary out of danger of being trampled. Jon healed Gary's skull to the best of his ability – he was probably one of the best healers, but least well known, in the nation, considering that both Duke Baird of Queenscove and Alanna had taught him during the Tusaine War.

After finishing with Gary, Jon commanded Raoul, "Run and get Coram, and Duke Baird. Coram will freak out if he's not able to at least see Alanna after this is over." Raoul nodded, and ran off. Jonathan started watching the duel, with a mixture of admiration and apprehension, checking on Gary once in a while. He could tell that Alanna was not tiring, nor was she using art – now was the time to just stay alive. Jonathan looked at Alex and saw the same thing. _They're perfectly matched!_ he thought in amazement, as his jaw dropped. He had never seen fencing like this – not even when Alanna had fought Roger.

What Jonathan had not noticed was that Alex was growing flustered at Alanna's skill. "So when do you give up, slut?" Alex asked, catching Alanna's blade body-to-body.

"Never," Alanna replied savagely. Alex started using his greater weight to force Alanna and the locked blades to the floor. Alanna forced back as hard as she could, and kicked the muscle behind Alex's knee. Alex, who didn't see her foot in time, dropped to the floor like a stone, surprised.

"Gods all damn you, Alanna," he whispered to her. With that, he dropped his sword, pulled a dagger out of his sleeve, and forced it into his own heart.

"Is this what it's like to win, Alex?" Alanna asked softly. No answer came, or would ever come. Alanna turned from the body, and walked back to Jonathan, who ran down the steps and swept her up into hug.

"Are you all right, Alanna?" he asked worriedly.

"I think so. My head's just pounding – I've been trying to keep myself from bleeding to death," she told him exhaustedly. She showed him the wound Alex had given her – the scar from the arm injury she'd gotten in the Tusaine War had been reopened and the wound had been deepened.

"What spells have you got on it now?" he asked, seeing the paleness of her complexion.

"Let me show you," she responded. He knew what she was going to do, and held her hand tightly as she passed the spells over to his control. Jonathan ended the spells for her, knowing that she didn't have the strength to do it herself.

"Let's sit down a minute, love," he told her. She nodded, and followed him to a bleacher. "We're just waiting for Raoul to return with Duke Baird and Coram."

"All right," she said quietly, leaning into his chest.

The door above the bleachers opened, and Duke Baird entered, followed by Coram and Raoul. Coram asked Jonathan loudly, "Wha's happened t' her?"

"She's just exhausted. She had a long duel. Your Grace," Jonathan turned to Duke Baird, "Alex of Tirragen killed himself with a dagger after he lost the duel. Gary hasn't come around yet, but I healed his skull as best as I could – I take it that Raoul told you what happened?"

"Yes, he did," Duke Baird answered, setting to work checking Jon's work. "Coram, can you help me carry Gary out?"

"Yes, sir! Comin' sir!" Coram answered, running to help the Duke.

"Your Highness, I suggest that you take this young lady back to your rooms, so she can actually rest."

"Yes, Your Grace. I just wanted to be here, so we wouldn't worry you by not being where you were expecting us," Jonathan answered, helping Alanna to stand. With that, the couple left the fencing gallery, Alanna leaning heavily on Jonathan.

**A/N: Not much difference, I know, but is it better anyway? REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Revised version number 6:**

**Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that these are not my characters (I wish they were), they are Tamora Pierce's, and I would never do anything to steal them (in an obvious manner).**

**Thanks and enjoy the story. Keep those lovely reviews coming! **

**Alanna22039**

Chapter 6

Jonathan dropped Alanna off in their rooms, told her he would be back later – he was going off to tell the King, Queen, and Duke Gareth what had happened and left. Alanna took a long, relaxing bath, soaking out all of the bruises and stiffness from her duel.

_So, playing the hero again? You realize now that old the old dangers of the Court never left? I'm going to have to look after you more carefully now. And you say that you can take care of yourself?_ With that, Faithful curled up at the foot of the bed.

Alanna ignored her cat, instead taking a nap while waiting for Jonathan to return.

He returned some two and a half hours later. He walked into the bedroom, expecting that she would be taking a rest, and indeed, there she was, sleeping. She looked so beautiful this way, so much softer than she normally did.

Faithful got up, stretching leisurely, and jumped off the bed, rubbing himself on Jonathan's leg, all the while musing, _She's all yours._ He disappeared from view with a casual flick of his tail.

She lay, with one hand under her pillow, the other resting on top of the covers. Jon noticed she'd taken a bath first – her hair was still wet, she had also bandaged her arm – the arm resting on the blanket. Her eyes were shut, with her eyelashes brushing her high cheekbones, and her beautiful red lips were parted slightly. A couple strands of her hair were falling into her face. Jonathan gently brushed them aside. She woke at his touch.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he told her quietly.

"It's all right. I'll survive missing a few minutes sleep to see you." Jonathan laughed. It was most unlike Alanna to refuse sleep for anything.

"How's Gary doing?" she asked quietly.

"He's fine, he's awake. He looks like he's wearing a turban though."

"Too many bandages 'round his head?"

"As I'm sure Duke Baird would tell you, not too many, just enough."

"How did your parents take the news of the duel with Alex?"

"They actually said that they agreed with you, after I told them you tried any way to back out of the duel, and only engaged because of what Alex did to Gary. I should tell you, Father's put you on a three-month ban from fighting, though. Father doesn't want you to injure yourself more, or so he said."

"Well, that's polite of him," Alanna commented sulkily. Jon chuckled quietly.

"Thom's furious with you for getting yourself injured, and Faithful seems to be keeping watch over you now." Alanna rolled her eyes, groaning.

"Thom can stuff it," Alanna replied, annoyed. "When he can fence, without decapitating himself with his own sword, then we'll talk. Faithful thinks its his god given duty to watch over me – he always has."

"I'm glad to see you didn't lose your sense of humor," Jon told her quietly. "Now that I've filled you in on everything, you need to go back to sleep."

She rolled onto her side, facing him, saying, "Yes, daddy," sarcastically, before falling asleep again. Jonathan softly kissed her cheek, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

**A/N: Please review. Even if it's just to say, "I don't like the changes; put everything back to the original, please."**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I promise that nothing is mine, except the plot (and any other mysterious items (like Myles' alarm clock) that you don't remember from the books). Now read, and remember to hit the lovely little purple button down in the bottom right hand corner.**

Chapter 7

The next time Alanna awoke, she heard soft voices coming from Jonathan's study. The sky outside the windows was black as pitch, so she assumed it was very late. She identified one voice as Jon's and the other as Gary's.

"So, how's she doing?"

"She's all right, she just needs rest. How's your head?"

"Throbbing. I'll be okay. I think she did worse health wise than I did."

"Well, she overexerted herself – almost, but at least she retained consciousness this time. She should be running around soon enough." Alanna got up and started walking towards the bedroom door.

"Does she know about the ban?"

"Yes. She wasn't happy about it, but at least she didn't bite anyone's head off either." She walked into the study, her feet barely making any noise on the floor.

Gary broke off the conversation with Jon when he saw Alanna enter the room. Jon, intent upon talking to his cousin, hadn't noticed her. "Ah, the triumphant awake," he called.

"Not so loud, Gary, my head's killing me!" Jonathan looked towards the door when he heard Alanna's voice.

"I thought you were supposed to be sleeping," he said sternly.

"Actually, I was sleeping, at least until your conversation disturbed me," she replied, knowing that Jonathan wasn't truly angry. Jonathan, got up, ran to her, picked her up and twirled her around, kissing her.

"Ah, my eyes have been burned out by this unseemly scene!" Gary shouted, teasing the couple, as they walked back to Jon's desk.

"Oh, shut it," Alanna told him tartly. "It's not as if you and Cythera haven't embarrassed the rest of us enough times!"

"Well, you lot didn't have to stay and watch," Gary replied dryly.

"Well, if that's how you're going to act, I'm going back to bed," she said getting up. Gary caught her hand and pulled her down into a seat.

"Oh no you don't. I want to hear what happened. Sit and tell."

Alanna ripped her hand from Gary's. "Get off my hand oaf," she reprimanded him, though she was grinning. "That still hurts, you know. Oh by the way, just so you don't make the same mistake again, there are only a select group of people allowed to tell me what to do. You aren't part of that group."

"Ouch! I think talking to a piranha would be less painful than talking to you!" Gary told his friend.

"No, it would be more painful. If you were talking to a piranha, your head would be bitten off – bandages and all – before you could say 'hi'," Alanna told him dryly.

"She does have a point you know," Jon informed his cousin.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Jon. Everyone's against me, apparently. Everyone was more worried about you, Alanna, when they came to visit me. Dad actually told me straight out that I was taken care of, and he was more worried about you."

"You know, Gary, that was probably justified by the fact that –"

"You were his favorite student of all time," Gary finished for her.

"Well, there's that, but as I was saying, everyone was probably more worried about me because none of them have seen me since the duel, except for Jonathan, and you I suppose, though it's not nearly as delightful." Jonathan tried to hide a grin behind his hand, but somehow managed to fail spectacularly.

Gary's stomach, which he claimed had a mind of its own, chose that moment to start growling. "Well, lovebirds, I'm off to the kitchens to see if I can get anything to eat this late." With that, he took his leave. Jonathan laughed harder than ever, and Alanna covered her face in exasperation.

"Let's go to bed, Jon. And don't you dare remind me of this conversation in the morning. I'd rather not remember it." Jon chuckled, then swept her off her feet and carried her back to bed, with her falling asleep in his arms.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The little devil on my shoulder says I should take credit for everything in this story. That sounds so good! _in the background, a halo cracks_> I promise that I own nothing except the plot. It all belongs to the great and wonderful Tamora Pierce. **

**Ok, enough with all the unimportant stuff. Enjoy!**

Chapter 8

The next day, Alanna and Jonathan went riding through the countryside around Corus. They raced a couple times, had a relaxing picnic, not having to worry about anyone but themselves, and Jonathan nearly got thrown into the mud when he tried to stop his horse, Darkness, too quickly – right in front of a mud puddle. He struggled to remain in his saddle, as Alanna just laughed.

"Whoa boy, calm down! I didn't mean to hurt you, settle down!" Darkness just reared again, and Jon shouted, "Preferably with me _in_ the saddle." Alanna laughed harder. Finally, Darkness calmed down, and Jon rode closer to Alanna, who was smiling – quite apparently full of mirth – and watching him, her eyes dancing with merriment.

"You know, you have no pity –"

"Not when the problem is your fault, I don't," Alanna interrupted.

"I love you anyways, my dear Lioness."

"I love you too, Jon."

"Oh, I meant to tell you earlier, Mother wants to spend the afternoon with us tomorrow. I have no idea why."

"Joy. I didn't really have anything planned, but I'm still worried that I'll say or do the wrong thing." Jon laughed.

"Did Myles tell you he's leaving tonight for Barony Olau?"

"Nope. He failed to mention that. How long is he going to be gone this time? A day?"

"No, he actually managed to get a week away from Court. He's leaving right after dinner."

"Great, now I have to find time to say 'goodbye.' Coincidentally, that's not something I'm good at doing." Jon laughed as she frowned as if worried. At that, moment, a horse's scream split the chilly autumn air. In an instant, Alanna had swung out of the saddle, and was at Moonlight's head, in attempt to calm the mare down. Seeing that Moonlight was holding up her left front leg, Alanna bent down to check the hoof.

"Jon, she's picked up a stone. You don't mind if I put her on a halter and ride double with you, do you?"

"No, why would I mind you riding double with me?" Jon asked in exasperation.

"Because you like being contrary," Alanna replied without thinking, searching her saddlebags for the halter she knew she had somewhere. _The question is where is the damn thing?_ Alanna thought wryly. "Here it is!" she shouted in victory, bringing out the halter.

"Thanks for the compliment. So, do you always hide stuff from yourself like this?"

"Often enough. Here, catch," she replied, tossing him the free end of the halter. As soon as he had tied the rope to his saddle, Jon reached a hand down to Alanna to help her get up on Darkness. Apparently he didn't help that much, because she ignored his hand and still managed to mount Darkness (in front of Jon) quite easily.

"I love you," Jon whispered in her ear.

"So you've said, many times. Now, since you have the reins, will you pay attention to the road?" she asked dryly.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that part," Jon muttered. Alanna started laughing, and didn't stop for five minutes.

"All right, you have to fill me in on this one: what did I do to put you in hysterics this time?"

"Sound stupid," Alanna told him, still laughing.

"Thank you ever so much for salving my wounded pride," Jon told her dryly.

"Well, you did sound stupid," she replied. "It happens so rarely that it's highly amusing when it does happen. And you always take care of your own pride, you don't need me for that." She leaned back into his hold, looking up at him, and kissed his cheek.

Jonathan, who wasn't really angry anyway, just faking it, relented under Alanna's sudden show of charm and humor and started laughing with her, all the way back to the Palace.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Oh, I forgot to tell you all. I really wrote Song of the Lionness, and just allow Tammie Pierce to take the credit. Aren't I so kind? Anyway, I really don't own a thing. **

**Prince Jonathan's Lover, Lady ofTrebond,and tortallanrider: Youall asked me to update asap. Well, I did.**

**Everyone else: Keep reading and reviewing.**

**To all my faithful reviewers: Keep sending those lovely reviews! They make me so happy... (_Tears start leaking out Alanna22039's eyes)_**

Chapter 9

That night at dinner, Alanna sat with Myles, who wanted to hear about the duel from Alanna's point of view. After she finished her tale, he told her, "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if the accusations you pressed against Alex were true."

"Well, I think they are, and Alex's reaction just further confirmed my suspicions. I don't see any other reason why he would respond the way he did."

"That's true, but you still have no foundational proof. But George says that a new thief, Claw by name, is trying to take the 'throne' in the Court of the Rogues. Apparently, he was the man behind the uprising in Port Caynn. He also tried to poison George, or so George believes, though Claw denies the claim. I would have visited you this morning, but George wanted to give me a good look at Claw. He's got pock marks and scratches all over his face, acts like a noble, says he's from Galla, and I recognize his voice from somewhere, but I'm not sure where from. His men have tried to kill George on numerous occasions."

"So that's why everyone's been avoiding the Lower City," Alanna said thoughtfully. "When Jon and I went riding this afternoon, both times we passed through the Lower City, it was almost empty."

"Well, everyone's waiting to see who wins this… 'contest' I guess is the best word," Myles told her. "The problem is that everyone is waiting for Claw to make a traditional challenge. Frankly, I doubt he will – even as far as Galla, everyone knows that the current Tortallan King of Thieves is a formidable fighter. In fact, in Galla, the Rogue is almost as well known as the Lioness." Myles smiled at his foster-daughter.

"Is that a compliment? Never mind, I don't want to know." Alanna shuddered. "So basically, the Lower City is full of terror because this Claw is afraid to actually fight George face-to-face. And he was the one ruling the Rogue in George's place while George was in Port Caynn."

"Yes, that would be an accurate summary. I'm trying to find out who Claw really is though. I don't believe that he's from Galla. He sounds like he was born in northern Tortall. He talks too much like a noble for my comfort. Like I told George, I've heard his voice, and not as a rogue either. That disturbs me – I ought to know his voice and I don't. Hopefully I'll find an answer soon."

"That is disturbing," Alanna whispered. I'm also worried about Delia of Eldorne's actions again – I promise it's not jealousy." Looking at Myles, she saw him grin slightly.

"That's good. I don't have the time to counsel people on how to deal with jealousy. Continue."

"Well, she's not acting up to her norm. I mean, usually, she would never stop pulling pranks, on me in particular, for anything. Lately, she's been passing me in the halls more often, even smiling at me. It's just so peculiar that it worries me. And another thing – she didn't even blink when the Court was told about Alex's death, or at the funeral. As I recall, they were fairly close. Why would his death not even faze her, unless their friendship was as fake as Alex's friendships with us after becoming Roger's squire?"

"Well, don't put your nose where it doesn't belong, lest it get cut off," Myles told his daughter tartly. "And watch for any more trouble while I'm gone, would you? You're one of the only people I can trust to give me a fairly unbiased report." The pair walked out of the banquet hall towards the courtyard that led to the stables. A couple of servants were waiting in the courtyard with Myles' horse ready for him to mount.

"Safe journey, Myles," Alanna said, hugging her foster-father. "Come back soon."

"I doubt I'll be able to stay away long. Not with the way the King relies on me for information, at least. Be careful and don't overexert yourself, if only because you'll give the Prince a heart-attack," Myles teased. He went to his horse, mounted, waved to Alanna, and rode off. Alanna went back inside, thinking about her conversation with Myles, and what it had revealed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, peoples. Now that you fought your way through the oh so long Chapter 9, here's Chapter 10.**

**Disclaimer: Oh no, the police have found out that I've told everyone that the story's really mine. _(Starts singing)"Goodbye ev'rybody, I've got to go..."_ preferably before the police find me and put me in jail for copyright fraud. Oh, they've given me a choice: jail, or tell everyone the truth. Here it comes: the story's not really mine, and I'm sorry for any and all confusion I've caused...**

**Now read. And don't forget the nice little review button waiting so patiently for your mouse. For those of you who still are not acquainted with the kind Mr. Review "GO" Button, he's waiting in the bottom right hand corner of the page. Thank you all so much for your cooperation in sending me reviews.**

**Alanna22039**

Chapter 10

The next afternoon, Alanna could be found walking to the Queen's Sitting Room, alone, to spend time with her (hopefully) soon-to-be mother-in-law. Jonathan, had managed to escape the "party," as he called it in fun, through one of the myriad of Council meetings. He had at least given her directions to his mother's sitting room. Alanna, having arrived at her destination, stood in front of the door for five minutes, intensely battling with her nerves before summoning the courage to actually knock on the door…or so she thought. Just when she was about to knock on the door, her daring failed. Her hand fell to her side.

_Oh, come on, Alanna, she can't be nearly as bad as Jon said. He was just exaggerating because she's his mother_, Alanna thought.

_But she's so enthusiastic – about everything! Goddess, even King Roald says she over-decorates everything._

_You have to go through with this to have her permission to marry Jon though! Just because the King said it was all right doesn't mean she will. Pull yourself together!_

She took a deep, calming breath, and knocked on the door. Alanna only just had time to arrange her face in what she hoped was a pleasant smile before the door was opened and she was pulled into a ridiculously tight hug.

"Alanna, _darling_, how are you?"

"Um…F-fine, your Majesty," Alanna stuttered. The Queen had been worse than Alanna feared. Jon's comment that she was overenthusiastic was quite an understatement. To Alanna, she was just frightening. The Queen stood only two inches higher than Alanna's own five feet, six inches. She had jet black hair, light blue eyes, and full lips. She wore a silk, kelly green gown that accented her thin frame. Her complexion was still pallid – she would never completely recover from Roger's attacks on her health, in the Sweating Sickness and his image.

"I have tea ready for us, darling," the Queen exclaimed happily. "You drink Earl Grey, don't you? Well, if you don't maybe you'll like it after you try it!" **(A/N: For those who don't drink tea, or aren't Brits, Earl's Grey and Lady Grey are both British teas that I adore.)**

"Thank you, your Majesty. Earl's Grey will be fine – yes, I like it." The Queen poured the drinks gracefully.

"Please sit down," the Queen requested, handing Alanna her cup of tea. "I know that my husband banned you from the practice courts after your duel because of your injuries. I understand that you are well now?" Alanna opened her mouth to answer, but Queen Lianne continued without skipping a beat. "Well, never mind the small talk. What I really want to discuss with you is your relationship with Jon, which is why it would have been good for him to be here. He was quite worried about you when you collapsed after that duel, you know." Alanna tried to contradict the Queen. She _hadn't_ collapsed after the duel, she had just been exhausted. The Queen continued talking, never giving Alanna a chance to correct her.

"That duel was quite the show of feminine power, dear. I really couldn't admire you more. Anyway, I just wanted to know, how long has your relationship with my son gone on?"

"We've been close friends since I first met him, your Majesty, and that was the night I arrived, when I was ten."

"No, no, my dear girl, you misunderstand me. When did you fall in love?"

"He started courting me when I was seventeen, your Majesty. I believe I started getting jealous of the Court ladies he was seeing when I was fifteen or sixteen. I think Jon started returning my feelings during the Tusaine War. Excuse me, your Majesty, I don't mean to sound rude, but why is this important?"

"Oh, you know, darling. Curiosity killed the cat."

From that conversation, the Queen went on to other ones, including telling Alanna stories from Jonathan's infancy. Alanna felt that she was being pressured to bear a child to Jonathan before the Queen passed away. Alanna suddenly realized that the Queen knew she was not long for this world. Finally, as the sun was beginning to set, Alanna was set free.

Alanna ran back to the suite of rooms she shared with Jonathan. She collapsed onto a window seat in their sitting room, sighing. Faithful jumped up onto her lap. Somehow, his weight on her lap was comforting.

_So, was the Queen as bad as you thought she would be?_

"You have no idea, Faithful." She scratched him behind his ears, as he purred, rubbing his head against her hand. He settled in her lap and started to fall asleep with his mistress petting his back. Alanna watched the beautiful sunset, thinking about her afternoon with the Queen and her upcoming marriage. She and Jon had agreed to a spring wedding. But Alanna cold not shake the feeling that no matter how terribly enthusiastic the Queen was about the ceremony, she would never see her son wed.

The object of Alanna's thoughts walked into the sitting room at that moment. Jonathan could see that his fiancée was thinking hard about something. He also noticed, that Faithful had, as usual, fallen asleep in her lap. Her hair and skin seemed to glow with the light from the dying sun. Jon noticed, with some amusement, that even though Alanna was wearing a gown (blue so pale it was almost white), she still had her feet drawn up beneath her in a most unladylike manner. She was quite unlike any other woman he'd met, which was one reason why he loved her so much, he reflected.

"So, I was wrong. Her enthusiasm didn't strike you dead immediately," he teased, walking over to her window seat, and sitting beside her. Alanna jumped, when she heard his voice.

"Don't do that! You scared me! I didn't even hear you come in." He kissed her cheek.

"Maybe I alarmed you, but I doubt I scared you, love.Don't confuse the two. And I'm not surprised that you didn't hear me. You seemed lost in your thoughts. What were you thinking about?"

"Well, your mother seems to be weakening again, and I don't mean to worry you, but someone has to tell you."

"Why do you say that?" He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her. Faithful grumbled as he was woken, and jumped to the floor. Alanna heard him mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like _Stupid prince, you always kick me out (or wake me up then kick me out) just so you can have your chance with her. What if I want to spend a day with her? Is that a crime now? _Alanna fought hard to keep her face straight and stifle a laugh. She turned back to the conversation.

"Well, it's not something you would notice right away, but she seemed like she was distracted by something, but she was trying to hide it. She never kept to one subject long. She seemed almost…I dunno…it just made me really worried about her," Alanna finished, somewhat lamely.

"We've known that she won't heal entirely from the image for a while. She was never that strong, Alanna. I just wish she would let me do something for her, but she can be fairly obstinate when she wants. Besides, she always tells me that Duke Baird is doing all he can – she's probably right. I've been worried about her for a while. I think your right in saying she won't be here much longer. Just out of curiosity, why were you watching the sunset? Granted, tonight's is particularly beautiful, but…" Alanna laughed nervously. Nonetheless, the tension that had built up was released.

"I guess I'll have to watch myself more carefully. Otherwise, you'll think I've turned completely feminine."

"Not that that would be a problem," he muttered. Alanna ignored the comment.

"Anyway, the sunset has always calmed me down somehow. I don't know why. I just know it helps me relax. I didn't mean to worry you."

"You didn't worry me, I just thought I'd remind you that there's a ball tonight. I don't think you'd make the best impression to the Court if you skipped." He chuckled as Alanna winced at the reminder.

"I suppose I'll have to get ready then, won't I?" she asked sarcastically. Jon grinned wickedly and kissed the back of her hand as she got up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, last chappie in this update. Enjoy (as always, or with your salad).**

**Prince Jonathan's Lover and tortallanrider: This is my last prewritten chappie. I will try and get back and update soon (if only cuz I hate see my story as anything less than number 1), but will need some time to finalize, then type chappie 12. Is that acceptable? I promise I will have it up asap.**

**Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that it ISN'T MINE! It all belongs to the wonderful goddess of Tortall, Tammie Pierce! What do I have to do to make you people understand that?**

Chapter 11

Two hours later, Jonathan and Alanna were waiting for the cherry doors at the top of the Queen's Staircase to open. Alanna looked beautiful in a satin gown. It was pale violet, to bring out her eyes, but had a hint of blue in it as well. She had adjusted the Court tradition of one wearing one's hair up when presented to the monarchs – she had drawn her hair back from her face, but resolutely left it down. She was wearing little jewelry, except her engagement ring.

She could hear the Court on the other side of the door. _What will they think of Jon's choice of a bride?_ she wondered. _Not that I really care,_ she told herself. _Who cares, so long as Jon loves me and his parents don't object?_

"Are you ready, my love?"

"When you are, Jon." He raised her hand to his lips, in the customary kiss of a knight escorting a young lady of the Court, except that he stayed a moment longer than absolutely necessary. At that moment, the herald crashed his ceremonial staff against the floor, and both doors opened – the symbol of a royal presentation, foreign or domestic. The herald spoke in his booming bass voice to the Crowd assembled below: "Presenting His Royal Highness Prince Jonathan of Conté, and his betrothed, 'Sir' Alanna the Lioness of Tortall, Lady of Trebond and Olau." A burst of laughter and cheers came from one corner of the room where most of Jonathan's and Alanna's friends waited for them. Jonathan was beaming, and a small, almost indistinct smile played about Alanna's lips.

The monarchs were also openly smiling, though many of their courtiers were glaring at both them and the couple in shock and outrage. The looks on their faces quite clearly said "How could the King allow this to happen? This is unacceptable." Looking at Jon out of the corner of her eye, Alanna saw Jon smile bemusedly at those lords who would someday be under his command.

After their bow to the monarchs, Alanna and Jonathan hurried to the corner where their friends were. Cythera's greeting to Alanna was more an exclamation of jealousy ("How is it that you masquerade as a boy, get the Prince as your betrothed, and then get the most beautiful gown on top of it all?")

"Thanks, 'Thera." Alanna knew that she had to cut the girl off, or she would discourse them all on how lucky Alanna was. Alanna turned to look for her twin. Thom was getting a glass of what looked like pomegranate juice from a nearby squire. He caught his sister's eye, before tripping over the hem of his robes. Master Mage Thom of Trebond managed, not only to not spill a drop on his pristine mage robes, but to slop his drink all over the gown of the Lord Magistrate's wife.

The lady shot him a look of purest loathing, then stalked away, her nose held high. Sacherell of Wellam went to his mother to see if he could help her. **(A/N: It was Sacherell's father who was the Lord Magistrate in one of the series, wasn't it? Can somebody check for me? Thanks.) **He grinned at Thom as he passed by. Alanna could have sworn she heard him whisper "Nice one, mate." _Boys!_ she thought in exasperation. She caught Thom's eyes and motioned toward a nearby balcony, her mind full of the thought of escaping the party.

Thom came over obligingly and hugged his sister. "Sister mine, might I have a word with you out on the balcony over there?" He pointed to the veranda she had motioned to a minute ago.

"Jonathan, do you mind?" She felt like she was almost begging.

"No. Go ahead, love. I know you haven't had too much occasion to catch up with one another. Take as much time as you want. I'll know where to find you if I need you."

A couple of hours later, Thom was entertaining his sister with stories of his impressions of the Court and how it had been in her absence when Jonathan joined them on the veranda. Seeing the fearful expression on her fiancé's face, Alanna immediately broke off her conversation with her brother. "Jon, what's wrong?"

Ignoring her for a moment, he addressed her twin instead. "Pardon me, Thom, but might I borrow Alanna for a while?"

"Of course, Your Highness. Goodnight, Alanna." Thom disappeared inside, leaving Alanna watching Jonathan. He seemed to be trying to keep his self-discipline. More noticeably, **(A/N: I spelled that right, right?) **he was failing.

"Jonathan, what's wrong? Please, tell me." She rushed to his side.

"Mother – she – she left the party earlier, saying she felt ill, which didn't concern Father or me too much – Duke Baird followed her. He's –he's just come back. With some – some news. She's gone. Dead, I mean. He – he said th-that it was peaceful though. Do you – would – you –?" He broke off.

"Would I what, Jonathan?"

"W-would you mind turning in early, Alanna?"

"Not at all. Come on, love."

The couple walked to their rooms through the royal gardens, for some semblance of privacy. By now, tears were falling down Jon's cheeks. He held Alanna's hand tightly, as if afraid to lose her as well.At that moment, Alanna knew that neither Jonathan nor she would be able to live without the other in their life. _However did I survive before meeting him?_ she wondered. Jonathan stopped, by a shadowed stone bench -- ironically, it was the one wherehe had first kissed Alanna --and sat, motioning for Alanna to sit next to him.

She watched him closely, surprised that he wasn't sobbing his heart out. She reminded herself that Jonathan would never let himself sob – no matter how miserable he was. She tried to think of something comforting to say. She couldn't think of anything that wasn't either completely cliché or really tactless, so she didn't say anything, but leaned into his embrace, when he put his arms around her.

She knew that she couldn't tell him how to react – her own mother had died when she was too young to remember much of it. All she really could associate with that day was her father shutting himself away from everyone, especially his children. Maude and Coram, who had already been like an aunt and uncle, took over most of the responsibilities of caring for the twins, and though they were close, neither Coram nor Maude could fill the place of a parent.

She didn't say anything about loyalty to Lianne either. She knew that Jonathan was too pained to take any such declarations seriously, and also, a statement of that sort would contradict the fact that she had been completely intimidated by Lianne anyway. Alanna doubted if she would have said something about being loyal to the royal family even if she wasn't so closely connected with them – she justloathed those courtiers who made such statements. She felt it was a ploy to gain power and that such courtiers could really care less about the feelings of the royal family, whatever they professed.

Jonathan didn't mind that Alanna didn't say anything. Her very presence was soothing to him. He knew that Alanna truly did feel empathy for his family, but she didn't truly know personally what he was going through. His respect and love for her grew greatly with the knowledge that, unlike many nobles of the Court, she had chosen to stay silent rather than act as though she had gone through his pain. He slid his arms around her shoulders lovingly.

He needed to break the silence – it was driving him mad. "I can't believe she's gone. I never thought I'd see the day when she was gone, honestly."

He was whispering, Alanna noticed. _He must be afraid that his voice will crack if he speaks any louder._ She could sense that he wasn't really talking to her in particular. He was just breaking the silence.

"I tried to do everything I could for her. I just wanted to keep her from being in pain." He swallowed hard.

"I know, love," Alanna told him. "You did what you could. She won't be in pain ever again. In one way, don't you feel a little better knowing that?"

"I guess I feel better that she won't be in pain, but I guess I'll kind of miss her over-decorating for Midwinter." Alanna laughed softly. Jon was surprised to find it made him feel better to hear someone laugh with him over his memories of his mother.

"She loved these gardens, you know. The Rose Garden was all her idea. I think the moonflowers were as well."

"I didn't know that she helped add on to the gardens. I don't blame her for loving the gardens though. They're beautiful like this. The flowers look like they'repainted overin silver," Alanna commented. At long last, Jonathan smiled. Alanna stood, pulling him up as well. "Come on. I want to sleep. Preferably without being cold." Jon chuckled.

As soon as they reached their rooms, Alanna made towards the bedroom, but stopped when she saw Jon almost fall into a chair. "I suppose you're going to try and tell me that you're not exhausted."

"Well, I'm not." His voice matched Alanna's in dryness – quite a feat, considering how he was feeling.

"Whether you're tired or not, you need to sleep. What do I have to do to get you to rest? Please sleep? We both know that you don't deal with anyone well when you're tired, and I have a feeling that you're going to be spending a lot of time with your father tomorrow. Even if he doesn't need you, which I highly doubt, I'll need you," Alanna teased. Apparently he had realized the sense in Alanna's words, because he stood, sighing.

"I'll try to sleep, love. You know, you're probably the only one who could get me to rest right now. I take that back – Gary probably could too."

"Something the both of us take pride in, I promise you. Come on, even if you're not tired, _I'm_ bloody tired, and it's too cold to sleep alone." Jon chuckled. The days were indeed turning chilly, and Alanna was known for her absolute hatred of the cold.

"I'm coming, I promise."

**A/N: Enough drama for you all? Good. OK, like I said above, this is the last prewritten chappie. I will be back with more fluff, drama, and humor soon (I know you all love it soooooooooo much). That doesn't mean that you can't review -- or that you shouldn't. KEEP REVIEWING, PEOPLES! I come on almost everyday, so I can (and will) make sure you've done your homework and reviewed ( if nothing else, at least this chappie).**


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, Peoples! I'm back, but with only one chappie, this time. I hope you enjoy this one. It'a bit different from the other ones. It's the same happenings told from two different points of view.**

**Disclaimer: I had a dream during which God told me to prophesy the story of a Lady Knight named Alanna. He also told me that the real story belongs to Tamora Pierce, not He nor I.**

**tortallanrider: I know you said to wait a week, but i couldn't resist.**

**Prince Jonathan's Lover: I submit another chapter for your delight.**

**aussigirl: I'm glad you enjoy it! Wonder what you'll think of this one.**

Chapter 12

The next morning, Jon woke up to Alanna shaking him – hard. "Wake _up_ already! No one could _possibly_ sleep any longer!"

"Wha'?" he asked groggily.

"It's noon, twit. Your father's getting mad at _me_ because _you_ are nowhere to be found – except sleeping. I've been trying to wake you up for –"

He cut her off with a kiss. As much as he loved her, he really didn't want to deal with her temper right when he woke up. "Could you tell Father that I'll be right there?"

"Fine. Just hope your messenger doesn't get killed." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then left at a run to tell King Roald that his son would be in his study momentarily.

Five minutes later, Jonathan arrived at his father's study, chest heaving, and out of breath. He straightened his tunic, then knocked on the door. A servant opened the door for him, but quickly left the room. Jonathan presumed that he was telling his father that he arrived.

His presumption proved correct. His father appeared, and rather than giving his only son any greeting, he shouted, "JONATHAN! Where have you been all morning? I told you last night that I would need you here in the morning! And then you slept through the time I needed your help!"

Jonathan winced. He opened his mouth to make an attempt to defend himself against the distraught King's wrath. "Father, I'm sorry. You're right, I overslept –"

"Don't interrupt me, young man!" _There's nothing better than being the Prince and having to deal with being belittled!_ Jonathan thought, with grim good humor. "I don't want to hear any excuses!" the King continued. "You've –"

Jonathan stopped listening and let the words wash over him. Instead of paying attention, he studied his father carefully. The usually pristine clothes were disheveled. _He must have slept in them last night – if he slept at all._ The King's beard was shaggy and matted, rather than its normally neat, trimmed style, and his hair was uncombed. There were cuts along the sides of Roald's face, where he had tried to shave his sideburns. His eyes were red, bloodshot, and puffy from lack of sleep and a night spent grieving. His upper lip looked burned – apparently the King had had to blow his nose often.

"Jonathan, are you even _listening_ to me?"

"Yes, Father. I mean –. No, I –. What did you say?"

"You're dismissed. OUT!" Jonathan turned and walked – very quickly – out of his father's study. As he shut the door, he heard his father break down into sobs. Jon was suddenly frightened -- his father would never sob, would he? He immediately felt guilty. Of course he would sob when he had just lost his wife.

On a sudden impulse, Jonathan entered his father's study again. "Father, are you sure you don't need anything?"

"OUT I said!" Jonathan turned, again, and left, shutting the door. He walked off as fast as he could. He needed to talk to someone about what he had just witnessed. Who could he go to? Gary was probably comforting his own father (the late queen's brother), Raoul was probably on the court, completely oblivious to the fact that Lianne was dead (her death had not been publicly announced yet), Myles wasn't back from Barony Olau yet, and Alanna was probably busy hiding from his father._ Well, at least she's predictable,_ Jon thought.

He decided to go find his fiancée – she probably had eaten lunch and then run to their rooms to hide. He almost ran back to their rooms. He checked the sitting room for any sign of her first, as it was by far her favorite room. Alanna wasn't there, but there was a note for him on the coffee table. _I'll deal with that after I find Alanna_. She wasn't in their bedroom, or his study._ Goddess bless, why does she always have to disappear when I need her most?_ He checked all the rooms again – she still wasn't there. Suddenly, he remembered the note in the sitting room – was that from Alanna?

Jon went back to the sitting room and read what turned out to a short missive from Alanna.

_"Jonathan,_

_"I went down to the _Dove_ on a short errand. Well, I figured it was time one of us told George we're engaged, and as you're busy with your father, that leaves me. Don't worry about me. I won't be gone too long, and I promise to take care of myself._

_"Love from_

_"Alanna"_

Jonathan thought hard. If she had left this while he was being berated by his father, she had been at _The Dancing Dove_ quite a while. He chose to go after her, after a few seconds deliberation. He ran down to the stables, saddled Darkness, and rode out in a full gallop – he wasn't going to wait to see Alanna a moment longer than he had to.

Half way along the ride to the _Dove_, Jon realized that he had forgotten to grab a cloak, and the wind rushing past his ears was _cold_! _No wonder Alanna hates the cold so much! Oh well, it's too late to go back for it now._ He pulled into the stables behind the inn called _The Dancing Dove_. It was the haunt of thieves, assassins, and prostitutes, as well as the home of the Court of the Rogue – a set of the wealthiest thieves in Tortall, headed by the strongest and most ruthless thief in the nation. Right now, an honorable thief by the name of George Cooper took that title.

George was a long-time friend of Alanna, Jon, and their friends. He had taught them all many things throughout the years of Alanna's masquerade. He had also given them permission to stable their horses in the _Dove_ stables whenever they needed to. Jon quickly stabled Darkness next to Alanna's Moonlight.

He ran inside and found the innkeeper Solom. "Solom, have you seen Alanna lately?"

"Why, 'tis young Johnny!" the older man commented. "I ain't seen th' lass since she came in 'ere askin' t' talk t' 'is Majesty abou' somma'. She asked t' talk t' 'im in private, so 'e took 'er up t' 'is rooms. 'M afraid, ye'll jes' 'ave t' wai' 'til th' lass comes back down, lad. 'M sorry, lad."

"It's alright, Solom," Jonathan sighed. He went to sit at an abandoned old table, but spotted two figures in the shadows by the stairwell. He sat at a forsaken table in the shadows where he could watch them. He was also able to make out their whispered conversation.

"…Lass, why no'?" George's voice was low and husky.

"George, I already told you, I'm engaged! To Jonathan! What don't you understand about this? I love you as a friend, nothing more! I've been trying to tell you that the entire time! You might have picked it up if you had just listened to me instead of forcing me into this ridiculous position. Please, don't do this. You're frightening me." Alanna sounded very annoyed, and rather upset. She had already been backed against the wall, and trapped between George's arms. Despite her casual appearance, with her back against the wall, and her hands in her pockets, Jonathan could see the rigidity of her back, and that her hands were balled into fists in her pockets.

The figures moved closer together – or rather, George leaned down closer to Alanna. "Wha's there t' be afraid o in a lit'le kiss?" he asked her, sliding his hands down to her waist. Jon fumed silently. George had real nerve in trying to romance his fiancée! If George made one more move toward her, he could swear he would…..

_Get a hold of yourself! If you lose control now, you'll ruin her reputation!_ he commanded himself.

_And give George a piece of what he deserves,_ he argued.

_Wait! She's strong, she'll get out of this fine! She doesn't need you to ruin her life for her! She'll lose everything if her reputation is damaged, and she would never forgive you for what you did, rashly, in trying to protect her, so wait!_

Jonathan groaned silently. Sometimes his mind put up arguments that were too reasonable for his peace of mind. Jonathan watched as Alanna spoke again, slowly and clearly. "I don't believe I know you anymore, George Cooper. The George Cooper I remember would never sink so low as to try and take someone else's fiancée. Goodbye, George." Alanna shoved George off her and walked into the dim light of the common room of the inn.

_Now aren't you glad you waited? She can stand up for herself! She's not just some damsel who eternally needs saving!_

Her eyes met Jonathan's and widened in surprise, as Jonathan raised his eyebrows in reply.

"Jonathan!"

**A/N: Perfect little cliffie, don't you think? One down one to go... I was meaning point of view wise, not chappies left in the story!**

**Anyway, for those of you wondering why the accents are different from the book, here's the reason: I always imagined the nobles speaking in Queen's English, and the commoners speaking in Cockney, even when I read the books. I hope that clears any confusion.**

**And don't forget: REVIEW!**

**Thank you so much for your cooperation.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi everyone, I just thought I should fix this part of the story -- it didn't flow particularly well the way I originally had it. None of the story has changed, I basically just merged chapters 13 and 14 together for easier reading.**

**Also, I tried putting this last message at the bottom, but my computer is being obnoxious again. Anyway, I would like to hear from all my readers about if this change helped any, or if it was okay the original way. Ignore the break line at the bottom of the page, and please review.**

**Thanks,**

alanna22039 :D

**Edited 5/28/2008 **

**Disclaimer: Same as always -- not mine, except what you don't recognize from the books.**

* * *

Chapter 13

It was a silent ride back to the Palace. Both the Prince and his betrothed were wrapped up in their thoughts about what had happened at the Dove. Jonathan was still seething about how George had kissed Alanna – or nearly kissed her.

Of course, Jonathan knew, indeed, had known for a long time, that George was infatuated with Alanna, and that Alanna harbored more than friendly feelings for the Rogue. He could still remember finding out that George had kissed Alanna, the night before his nineteenth birthday…

_Jonathan could hear Alanna's pacing of her room through the locked door that connected their rooms. She had been pacing since she returned from her visit to the City earlier that night, and muttering under her breath._

_He was busy writing reports about the situation with Tusaine. Well, he was actually trying to write them. He hadn't gotten very far with them because Alanna's pacing was driving him out of his ever-living mind! He went over to the connecting door and opened it, fully intending to tell Alanna to do something constructive or go to bed so he could finish his work, but froze when he heard her mutter, "Can't believe he kissed me! George! He knows I don't want romance or any of that soft stuff!" From there her words became an almost unintelligible stream of curses._

_Jon shut the door quietly, reminding himself to breathe. He felt like he should be kicking and screaming, shouting his rage for the world to know, but why? Was he jealous of Alanna? But then again, why should he be? She was his best friend, of course, but George's kissing her wouldn't affect that, would it? Well, she was his squire at any rate, and nothing could change that. If it wasn't jealousy, then why was he so angry? Was it just because someone had the nerve to scare his squire? But, she wasn't scared, from the sounds of it, just confused, and slightly annoyed._

_Jonathan gave up trying to figure out his feelings. It wasn't until later that night, when he woke up from a dream of kissing Alanna that he realized that he was jealous of Alanna…_

Jonathan felt the same way now that he had then – jealous that George had stolen a moment to try and romance Alanna. And he was scared of losing Alanna. For just an instant, right before she shoved George away, Jon could have sworn Alanna looked happy that George was about to kiss her, but then that look was replaced with disgust and confusion and she told him off and left. She wouldn't go back on her promise to marry him, would she? Knowing Alanna, and the way she felt about promises, he doubted it, but still…

Jon noticed that they had arrived at the Palace stables without his realizing it, and that Darkness had stopped, waiting for him to dismount. He jumped to the ground, and stabled Darkness quickly, still thinking, and now watching Alanna take care of Moonlight.

Alanna, meanwhile, was thinking thoughts similar to the Prince's. Except that she felt guilt, not jealousy. When George had mentioned kissing her for luck, yes, she had been scared – George never acted like that! Yes, he had stalked her, but he had never talked like that! – but she also felt heat flooding her body. It had taken all her strength of will to push George away. She knew, that she shouldn't have felt those feelings, especially not when she was already engaged to the Prince! _It's not like I can change how I feel, though, she thought miserably._

She had known that George would react badly to the news of her engagement (the man had been infatuated with her since she was fifteen, after all!), but hadn't expected him to act the way he did. She had expected George to become angry with her, or to stalk away, soothing his wounded pride, or… _Enough!_ she told her self. _What happened, happened, and your guilt and running over the situation constantly in your mind is not going to change what's in the past now! It's over, so get a grip on yourself!_

But Alanna knew it wasn't over yet. She still had to deal with Jonathan's anger with her. If he was angry that was. In the inn, she had been positive that he was livid, but now she wasn't so sure. He would have talked with her on the way home, just to make certain that she knew he wasn't angry, wouldn't he? _Not if he was still fuming about the way George treated you,_ a sensible part of her mind told her. _And why would he be angry with you? You didn't do anything wrong! And your feelings of guilt or pleasure, you can't truly control, as you already said. Your feelings are your feelings, and they don't change based upon your whim. You couldn't have controlled that situation better than you did any more than you could control George's actions. _Besides, Jonathan didn't sound angry when he said it was time to go home – not angry with you anyway.

Alanna sighed, and hung the currycomb on the back wall of Moonlight's stall, her head still buzzing with thought. She turned to leave, and found Jonathan leaning casually against the doorframe of the stall, his hands in his pockets. Seeing that she had noticed him, he walked over to her and held her close. "Are you alright, Alanna?"

She nodded into his shoulder and whispered, "I'm fine."

"Which is why you're crying. Because you're fine." Alanna backed away, putting her hand to her face wonderingly. She was surprised to find that Jonathan was right.

"I – I didn't notice."

"So I see." Jon swept her into his arms again, and rubbed her back consolingly. "Alanna, what's wrong?"

"Is this really the best place to discuss this?" she asked.

"I suppose you're right, as usual. Come on." He led her back to their rooms, briefly stopping to ask a passing maid to bring some food up to their rooms, as they had missed dinner.

* * *

After dinner, Alanna and Jon were reading in the sitting room. Alanna was curled up into the corner of the couch closest to the fireplace (which had a small fire burning as defense against the cold), and Jon was sitting next to her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. About half way into his book, Jon put it down. He couldn't concentrate anymore. He had to know what had bothered Alanna so much that afternoon. He asked what had happened, and she told him her whole sad, sorry tale, explaining why she was so confused and miserable:

_Alanna was sitting on the bed she shared with Jonathan, trying desperately to waken her beloved. Except that at the moment, she really couldn't use that term for him. She had just recently gotten back to her rooms after suffering through King Roald's bad-tempered questioning of Jonathan's whereabouts. She had been trying to wake Jon up for the past forty-five minutes – nothing was working._

_She shook his shoulder, yelling in his ear, "Jonathan, get your lazy ass up now before I lose my temper!" He didn't hear her – he slept on, deeply as ever. Losing what little patience she possessed, Alanna shook the Prince as hard as she could, shouting, "Wake up already! No one could possibly sleep any longer!"_

_Thank Mithros that did the trick. Prince Jonathan woke up, rolling over to her. He didn't notice that he nearly knocked her off the bed, or that she was sitting on the bed. Frankly, Alanna doubted if he realized he was rolling at all._

"_Wha'?" he asked her, blinking against the light – another thing she wasn't sure he noticed._

"_It's noon, twit. Your father's getting mad at me because you are nowhere to be found – except sleeping. I've been trying to wake you up for –." He pulled her into kiss, and she was forced to desist from her ranting. She guessed that he was afraid of seeing her temper when he first woke up. She wasn't actually angry – just annoyed – and she wouldn't even be annoyed if she hadn't been yelled at by a distraught King Roald. In fact, she would be quite amused, normally._

"_Could you tell Father that I'll be right there?"_

"_Fine. Just hope your messenger doesn't get killed." She kissed his cheek, then ran to do as he had so politely asked. She didn't go in the Royal study, but instead told the doorman that Jonathan would arrive shortly._

_She went down to the dining hall for some lunch, hoping to spend time with her friends and put as much space as she could between herself and the King. None of her friends were eating when she picked up her long, so Alanna sat alone at an empty. She ate her lunch, wondering what she could do to while away time this afternoon._

_She didn't notice when Raoul and Gary sat beside her. At least, not until Gary yanked on a tendril of her hair. "Hello, Alanna! Is anyone at home?"_

"_What was that for?" she asked him, glaring at him and massaging her head. "That hurt!"_

"_Well, you didn't notice us sitting down, so I figured that I had better bring you back to Earth."_

"_Thanks, Gary."_

"_Anytime."_

"_Hey Alanna, will Jon be joining us?"_

"_I doubt it, Raoul. Sadly, I have to leave as well. I'll see you both later."_

_Alanna had just remembered that neither she nor Jon had told George about the engagement. She knew that George was in town, as Stefan the hostler had just delivered her a message from George that morning. Alanna decided it was time someone told George the news._

_Alanna ran to her rooms, wrote Jon a quick note, which she left on the coffee table in the sitting room, and ran back down to the stables. She had to run back upstairs when she realized that she had forgotten her cloak. She saddled Moonlight quickly, and rode out into the city._

_It was a blustery day. Alanna was glad of the protection her cloak provided against the wind. The sign of_ The Dancing Dove_, __the inn where George stayed, was creaking loudly in the wind, making the dove painted on it look like as if it really were dancing. It was a welcome sight – it meant that she could go inside and warm herself. She stabled Moonlight quickly in the stables in the back of the inn, and went to seek out George._

"_Hey Solom." The innkeeper was sound asleep._How many more sleeping people will I have to do deal with today? _Alanna wondered. "Solom! Wake up you old drunkard!" He still slept. Looking around quickly to make sure that no one was watching Alanna slipped his chair from under him._

"_Wha'd I do t' ye t' deserve tha', lass?" he asked indignantly._

"_Not wake up," Alanna replied tartly. "Is George around?"_

"'_E ough' a be. 'E was 'ere earlier. Shall I go ge' 'im fer ye, lass?"_

"_That would be desirable."_

_The innkeeper disappeared upstairs. He came down accompanied by a man that Alanna was extremely happy to see. He was tall, with chestnut colored hair, hazel eyes, and a nose that was too big for "good looks."_

"_Tha' can' be my lass, wai'n' for me, can it?"_

_Alanna smiled nervously. "Hello, George. Look, I need to talk to you about something – in private, if at all possible."_

"_Of course. Follow me, lass."_

_Alanna followed him as far as the stairwell, and stopped. "George, I can't go to your rooms – unless you want my reputation ruined."_

"_Lass, wha's up?"_

"_George, I came to tell you that Jonathan and I are engaged. I love you, but not as anything more than a friend. I'm sorry."_

"_Wha'?"_

"_Jonathan and I are engaged." Seeing his confusion, she backed up – into the wall. She put her hands in her pockets to keep people from thinking that she was starting to get worried. She glanced around the common room, hoping that Jonathan wouldn't be there. It would be just her luck for Jon to come pick her up in a situation like this. "I'm sorry, George, but I can't hurt Jon like that."_

"_How would tha' hur' Jon? He knows tha' ye an' I are friends."_

"_It would hurt him, because_ we're engaged, _George!"_

"_So, I can' even give ye a kiss fer good luck? Lass, why not?"_

_George placed his hands on her shoulders, just as Alanna noticed a tall man sit at a shadowy table near enough for him to be able to see and hear her conversation with George._Gods, I hope that isn't Jon. If it is, I am in deep trouble.

"_George, I already told you, I'm engaged! To Jonathan! What don't you understand about this? I love you as a friend, nothing more! I've been trying to tell you that the entire time! You might have picked it up if you had just listened to me instead of forcing me into this ridiculous position. Please, don't do this. You're frightening me."_

_She had never been a position like this. In her pockets, her hands balled themselves into fists. She was sure that she was as stiff as a board. The twinkle in George's eyes was suddenly terrifying._

_George leaned down closer to her, and Alanna started panicking, while trying not to show it. "Wha's there t' be afraid o in a lit'le kiss?" he asked her, sliding his hands down to her waist. Alanna glanced out to the man in the common room again, and noticed his straight, but slightly hooked nose. _It is Jon! Oh, I'm in such trouble.

_Alanna gathered her courage, straightened, and spoke to George's face. "I don't believe I know you anymore, George Cooper. The George Cooper I remember would never sink so low as to try and take someone else's fiancée. Goodbye, George." Alanna shoved George off her and walked into the dim light of the common room of the inn, wiping eyes that were suddenly streaming._

_She looked at Jon, hoping he wouldn't be angry at her, and saw the fury in his eyes. "Jonathan!" she gasped in surprise – not at seeing him there, but at his fury._

_Rather than giving her any comfort that he wasn't really mad at her, he just raised his eyebrows skeptically, and Alanna's insides crumpled. "Let's go home," he told her softly, though his eyes still blazed angrily. She followed him out of the inn, like a silent – and doomed – shadow._

"I really didn't expect George to react like he did," she finished, finally putting down her book. "I didn't know what to do. You know I get scared when I can't control a situation."

"You're also extremely hard to reason with in those circumstances. But I wasn't mad at you. I was angry with how George treated you."

"Jealous of me, love?"

"I have been for a long time. George and I were in a pretty fierce competition for your love I think."

"That being the case, how long were you two fighting over me?"

"Since you were, oh, sixteen or so. Anyway, what I was going to say before you interrupted –" Here, Alanna looked sheepish, and Jon smiled at her. "– I couldn't possibly be mad at you. I love you too much." Jonathan reached over, to brush her hair out of her face, and noticed that there were still tears in her eyes – though perhaps, these had only started because of the topic of conversation.

He wiped away her tears with his thumb, causing her to look up at him. "No tears, love. I can never stand to see a beautiful woman crying. Smile." He pulled her closer and kissed her with such passion that it left both of them gasping for air. Alanna smiled and her arms snaked around his neck, as he kissed her again.

"I love you, Jonathan – forever and for always. No matter how unlike myself that sounds," she whispered. Jonathan smiled in return, and kissed her again.

That night, Jonathan and Alanna were together as they had not had the chance to be since their return from the desert.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, I'm back again! With another chapter for you to enjoy. This chapter and the next chapter were written with help -- lots of it! -- from my dear friend, tortallanrider. Okay, okay, it wasn't just help, she wrote them for me, because I was stuck on writer's block... But that doesn't matter, it's another chapter!...**

**Disclaimer: The characters and places mentioned forthwith do not belong to me or to the aforementioned friend. They belong to the wonderful author, Tamora Pierce. The plot, however, belongs to me...**

Chapter 15

Planning the queen's funeral had been tough on King Roald and Jonathan. They were planning it alone, because they didn't want hundreds of people bustling about, making them feel uncomfortable. And, besides, they were still in mourning for Queen Lianne.

As much as it pained Alanna to say, she actually didn't _mind_ Jonathan's mourning. He looked very grown-up in his blacks, grays, and lavenders. She saw flashes of the king he would one day become—he was practically running Tortall for his father. She loved how he would come back from planning the funeral and collapse, crying the tears he'd been holding back all day. Alanna would take him into her arms and hold him, telling him it was all okay.

One night, Jonathan came back. He walked in, shut the door, and snatched Alanna into a brain-exploding deep kiss. She pulled back. "Jonathan?" she asked.

"Yes, my sweet?" he replied, nuzzling her neck.

"Are you… feeling all right?" she asked hesitantly. He looked at her.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm feeling better than I've felt since my mother's passing." Alanna frowned.

"Where've you been all day?" she wanted to know. Planning a funeral should _never_ be a happy occasion!

"Planning my mother's funeral, of course," he responded. "But we're finished. It's in two days."

"That's a little sudden," Alanna remarked.

Jonathan shrugged. "It's not like anyone needs time to prepare." He starting kissing her neck and Alanna melted into his arms.

"Jonathan, stop," she croaked. He looked at her with smoldering blue eyes. She swooned again.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just…because," she replied. "You're getting me flustered." She started smoothing imaginary wrinkles in her lavender skirt to avoid looking at him.

"_You_, sweet Lioness? _You're_ getting flustered because of a little harmless kissing? That doesn't sound like you," he teased. She managed to get the strength to hit his arm.

"Stop it," she told him. "I hardly call this type of kissing _harmless_."

"You sound seventeen again, telling me how 'this isn't right' and 'we shouldn't be doing this,'" he informed her. Alanna frowned.

"Are you suggesting something?" she wanted to know.

"Of course not," Jonathan replied. "Just stating a fact. Now, can I go back to kissing you, or should I bolt the door first?"

"Bolt the door…?" The only time they bolted the door was when…"Jonathan!"

"What?" Jon had already slid the lock across the door, assuring them of total privacy.

Alanna was blushing furiously. "We can't…I mean, it wouldn't be right…"

"What are you saying?" His nearness was scrambling her brain. She could feel the heat coming from his body, and she suddenly _felt_ seventeen again, on that night she could never forget.

"Nothing...I mean…" She swore. "Just kiss me," she surrendered. Jonathan grinned.

"Gladly."

Sweeping her off her feet, Jonathan kissed her with such intensity that Alanna felt it through her whole body. He walked her backwards and sat her on the bed, never breaking their connection. He sat beside her and drew her in against his chest. Alanna was thankful – not for the first time – that he held her when they kissed. She knew that without his support she surely would've fallen – or fainted.

With the sureness of a professional, Jonathan began unlacing her bodice. She let him, taking her turn to control their kissing while he made fast work of her dress. As the silk floated away from her, Alanna surrendered the kiss to Jon and helped him out of his clothes. They fell back onto their backs, still kissing.

* * *

"So, tell me," Jonathan remarked several hours later. They'd developed a habit of talking for long periods of time after they made love. "Was that a _dress_ you were willing wearing before?" 

Alanna laughed. "You don't remember?"

"If you hadn't noticed, I was rather preoccupied with other thoughts," Jonathan reminded her.

"Like getting whatever I was wearing _off_?" she joked.

"Mm," Jonathan said, burying his face in her neck. "Something like that." She laughed again.

"Yes, it _was_ a dress that I was _willingly_ wearing," she replied.

"I thought so." He smiled. "You've always looked beautiful in dresses, for all that you hate them." Alanna blushed. 'Oh, stop, I've told you that before."

"But I never get used to it," she told him. "Can you tell me about the funeral, or is it a secret?"

"No, I can tell you." Jonathan rolled onto his back and Alanna put her head on his shoulder, looking up at him and listening intently. "It's going to be in the Rose Garden – I told you that was her idea, didn't I? Well, she loved the roses, and father and I figured she would've wanted it there, among the moonflowers. Her coffin will be opened, so the priests can do the rites, and roses and moonflowers will surround it, of course. Everyone will dress in mourning colors, because, well, it _is_ a funeral. There will be speeches – I _know_ you'll love that. Uncle Gareth, father, and I are making them, for obvious reasons." He kissed her. "I love you, you know that?"

"Well _that_ was a smooth transition," she remarked with a laugh. "To go from talking about your mother's funeral to saying you love me!"

"Am I no longer allowed to say that?" Jonathan asked. "I don't think I could stop."

"No, you still can," she replied. "I love you too."

"Good." Jonathan rolled to face her and put his face against hers. "Because that's sort of a requirement for getting married." Alanna laughed.

"I still can't believe I agreed to it," she said. "It wasn't long ago I was saying I would _never_ get married. It's funny how these things change."

"Simply hilarious," Jonathan agreed. Alanna looked up at him, confused. "Yes, sweet, that _was_ sarcastic." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"I know _that_," she defended. Jon patted her head.

"Of course you did, sweet Lioness. Now go to sleep."

**A/N: Please review... Or you won't get to see Chapter 16 -- which is already written -- courtesy of tortallanrider. I want at least 10 reviews before I post the next chapter. I know there are people who have read this without reviewing -- please review, even if it's anonymous. Just tell me what you think...**


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm back... I didn't get all the reviews I asked for, but I got most of them, so I'll be nice and give you the next chapter...**

**This is the second of the two chapters that I had lots of help on -- okay, okay, tortallanrider wrote this one too... I promise that the next one will be written by me!**

**Disclaimer: This is NOT MINE! Well, except the plot...**

Chapter 16

The funeral was held at five in the evening two days later. It had cooled down some, making it more bearable for the attendants – many of whom wore black. King Roald, Jonathan, Duke Gareth, Gary, and Alanna stood with the priest behind the casket – everyone else sat in chairs before it. Jonathan had wrangled to get Alanna next to him. Alanna knew that he would need her for moral support.

Jonathan looked mature and somber in his black hose, gray shirt, and lavender tunic. He'd managed to get all of the mourning colors in one outfit, pulling it off splendidly. His sapphire eyes were bright against the red rimming around them and the dark bags beneath them. His black hair – slightly mussed – matched the rest of his outfit. The king wore all dark grays and black, and was clearly torn up over the death of his beloved wife. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and was pale against the dark tones. Gary wore lighter shades of gray, but still managed to look like Gary. It amazed Alanna how unfazed her friend looked when she knew he was deeply mourning inside. The Lioness wore a lavender dress with black lace covering her copper hair. Many courtiers were surprised to see the lady knight in a dress and standing with the prince, but quickly recalled her betrothal to the future king.

When it was Jonathan's turn to speak, he grabbed Alanna's hand and gripped it tightly, drawing on her strength. Alanna let him, sending all of her love to him.

"I'm going to keep this as brief as I can. My mother was a lovely, vivacious, strong woman. She was friendly and welcoming. She loved my father and me with all her heart. When I fell ill with the Sweating Sickness, she would pray every day, and visit me as often as the healers allowed. When she caught it herself, no one believed she would survive for as long as she did. It took years for her health to truly fall again, and that was when my own cousin, Duke Roger of Conté, was slowly killing her. We have our Lioness to thank that she survived through that." He smiled at his betrothed, and Alanna saw he was on the verge of tears. She squeezed his hand, feeling her own eyes fill. "But she wasn't safe. We knew she wouldn't live for much longer, but I didn't expect it to be so soon." He took a shaky breath. "I've no doubt that my mother is smiling upon us, looking as she did in her prime: a beautiful woman with a big heart and a lot of love to give." He allowed only a few tears to leak from his eyes. Alanna admired his control.

The king cleared his throat and stepped forward. As he began, it was clear that he wouldn't maintain his composure through the speech. "My son is right. Lianne was – ah!" The king fell, an arrow in his shoulder. Alanna's eyes darted in the direction of the arrow: she saw a flash of purple and black – Tirragen colors. _Alex! _she realized. Her eyes caught someone else in green and white. _Delia_. Jonathan put his hand on her shoulder and she looked at him.

"Run," he told her softly. "Run and get in your mail and fetch Lightning. We need Alanna the Lioness now, not Lady Alanna ." Alanna nodded, kissed him swiftly, and ran off as fast as her dress would allow.

Jonathan called forth blue fire to shield his father, surrounding the fallen man as well as Duke Baird, the chief healer. The duke nodded his thanks, and went to work on the king. Confident in his strength, Jonathan shot blue lightning at the charging men. He gritted his teeth, knowing those colors. _If this is Delia's way of getting me back, it sure isn't working!_ he thought. _And Alanna was right about Alex…though I've known it for years._

Soon after, Alanna was back. _That was fast, _Jonathan thought. "Jonathan!" she called. He turned and saw that she carried his gear. He nodded.

"Hold them off," he told her. She shielded him as he changed – from sight and harm – and shot bolts at anyone who came near. She didn't trust using her sword _and_ her Gift at the same time – especially not where Jon was concerned. "You can let me out." She dropped the shield. Jonathan was in his armor, wearing it over his clothes. He drew his sword. "For Tortall."

"For the queen," Alanna said. They screamed and charged at the men, swinging with a fervor that was almost wild.

Alanna didn't know how many she cut down, only that she couldn't see Lightning as she swung. _How could they do this?_ she wondered. _Alex is dead. He was dead before the queen. He killed himself. How long have they been planning this? And where is Delia? I'll bet it's her behind all this, running everything since Alex's death. _What she _wouldn't_ admit was that this was all part of carrying out Roger's plan to become king. Or in Delia of Eldorne's case, queen.

"Jonathan!" Alanna called out, not bothering to look for him. Every sense told her he was close.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I'm going to find Delia and kill her. This is partially her doing," she replied.

"That sounds good. Give her a final farewell for me, will you?" Jonathan was cutting down men only a touch slower than Alanna.

"If she's alive long enough to hear it!" she responded. "Raoul! Take over for me here!" Raoul nodded and came over, scaring the daylights out of the men-at-arms. Raoul of Goldenlake? He was dangerous – a deadly fighter _and_ several times their size!

Alanna entered the palace, looking around for Delia. "Searching for me?' a voice asked coolly. Alanna turned and saw Delia standing behind her, wearing bright green and a wicked look.

"How'd you guess?" Alanna asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I had a hunch," she replied, casually inspecting her nails. "So, how does it feel to know that you're marrying the prince because everyone knows about your little affair?"

"I really couldn't say," Alanna remarked. "How does it feel to know that my sword is going to run through you any second?"

"I always knew you were a – ." Delia choked as Lightning cut though her. She fell to the ground.

"Always knew I was a _what_, Delia?" Alanna hissed. "A girl? A knight? What?" She knew she wouldn't get an answer. Frankly, she knew how that sentence would end. She didn't feel like admitting it to herself, so she made her way back to the garden, where there were men strewn around – all throughout the garden – and others running away.

"I scared them," Raoul remarked with a smile. "I don't know how."

"Cowards. Just like their masters," Alanna spat. All the Tirragen and Eldorne men had either fled or been killed. Alanna looked for Jonathan and found him beside his father. She hurried over.

"Can I do anything?" she asked. Jonathan looked at her. From the wetness on his cheeks, Alanna knew the answer.

"There's nothing left to be done," Duke Baird replied quietly. "That was a well-placed poison arrow."

"_Poison_?" Alanna exclaimed. "That's the method of – "

" – Cowards," Jonathan finished with a nod. His eyes blazed. "That's what Alex and Delia were."

"I said the same thing moments ago," she remarked. "So, he's…?" Duke Baird nodded, knowing the final word. Alanna looked down at the man who would've been her father in law. He was deathly pale. She placed her hand on his forehead. "Gods all bless you, your majesty. I forgive you for disliking what I did. And I wish I'd known you better." Jonathan kissed Alanna.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely into her hair, "for doing what you could." She looked at him.

"I could've saved him, Jon," she said. "If I hadn't gotten Lightning, I could've helped Duke Baird…"

"Nonsense," the healer argued. "There was nothing we could have done. It hit just the right spot and it was a strong poison. There was no chance for his survival."

"Thank you, Duke Baird," Jonathan remarked dryly. "That just made me feel _so_ much better."

"She wanted to know," the healer apologized. "I'm truly sorry." He put his hand on the prince's shoulder. "Maybe you two should leave." Alanna nodded and helped Jon to his feet. She let him lean on her all the way back to their rooms.

"Look at it this way," she said as she shut the door and turned to him, "his sentence was 'My son is right.'" Jonathan chuckled weakly.

"Since when are you an optimist, Alanna?" he asked. She smiled, deciding not to give him an answer.

"Before you start hugging me and getting me wet, let me change." She put on breeches and a lavender shirt. They sat on the bed and Jonathan held her close, crying into her shoulder.

"I have to plan my father's funeral before I'm done mourning for my mother," he said. "Why? Why did this have to happen?"

"Shh," Alanna told him, stroking his back. "I'm here, Jonathan. I'm here for you."

"I know," he said, gazing up into her eyes. "Don't let me go, Alanna. Never let me go." He pulled her close and Alanna saw a young boy in his eyes. It struck her that he was now king, even if it wasn't official.

"I won't, Jonathan. I promise I'll be here for you, forever. As long as you need me, I'll be right here."

**A/N: Ah, the end of another chapter... well, you know what that means... REVIEW! EVERYONE WHO READS THIS NEEDS TO REVIEW! I got complaints about holding back this chapter, so I won't hold back the next one, but please, tell me what you think... I feel like I'm begging here but I shouldn't have to be...**


	16. Chapter 16

**Next chapter, anyone? I promise that I did not have help writing this one, and that this chapter came entirely out of my own brain. Thank you, and enjoy the sh--chapter. Sorry, too much time spent listening to Broadway musicals...**

** Disclaimer: If I owned "The Song of the Lionness," would I really be posting my story here? Didn't think so.**

Chapter 17

One night, four months after Queen Lianne's funeral, Alanna could be found walking through the hallways near the Royal Wing of the Palace, rubbing her forehead ruefully. Her head was aching after a long day spent planning a certain wedding. She had just come back from the practice courts -- she had been hoping that a little round of fencing would help to clear her head. Clearly, she had been wrong. Alanna stopped at a door about halfway along the corridor, and began searching the pockets of her cotton breeches for her key. She was losing the little patience she had retained over the day very quickly, and soon began cursing at the lack of a key in her pockets. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her waist and someone's warm breath stirring the air by her ear.

"You wouldn't be looking for _this_" -- A key was dangled in the air in front of her face -- "by any chance, would you, love?" Alanna clawed at the air for her key, but it began to drift away, guided by the large hand that held it. "Ah, ah, ah -- mustn't grab, we mustn't," the voice continued in an amused tone. Soft lips touched the skin just below her ear, and Alanna squirmed.

"Do you mind?" she asked irately, as the lips continued to caress her skin. Alanna turned to face the man behind her. "This isn't the time for games, Jonathan. Now, give me that damn key!"

"I don't mind at all -- unless you're asking me to stop. Coincidentally, I don't think that's the way you should ask your king for something, but I could be wrong. And who said that this isn't the time to play games?"

"My headache, that's who." She scowled, nocticing that her betrothed was grinning broadly. She buried her head in his chest as her head gave a nasty throb. "May I please have the key, so I can go take care of my aching head?" Jon noticed the desperation in her voice, and kissed the top of her head.

Faithful joined the party, rubbing himself against Alanna's legs. She looked down at the cat, surprised, as he remarked to Jonathan, _Give her the key, or she'll hold a grudge against you for a month. Besides, someone needs to feed me -- I'm hungry._

Jon sighed, and handed the key to Alanna, muttering "Spoilsport."

"Who, me, or the cat?" The lock clicked, and the door swung inwards.

"Both." He kissed her cheek chastely. "So, what did you do today that gave you a headache?"

"Plan our wedding." Jon could see the exhaustion in her face as she closed the door. Faithful hissed in indignation as the door nearly shut on his tail. "Oh, sorry, Faithful." The cat stalked away to the room where his dinner was waiting, as Jon went into the sitting room and lit a fire in the grate. It was early December and freezing. Alanna sighed as her head throbbed again, and trudged to the closet where she kept her healer's bag. She quickly grabbed a vial of a strong headache cure and disappeared into the sitting room where Jon was presumably making her tea. Not that she minded, of course.

Just as she plopped herself into the armchair closest to the fire, there came a whistle from the tea pot on the hearth. "Oh, good the tea's done," Jon commented quietly before pouring two cups and handing one to Alanna. Alanna took it and dumped the headache cure in, causing the tea to suddenly look cloudy, and took as a sip. The effects of the potion in the vial were immediate. Her head stopped aching, and the muscles in her neck loosened.

"That's so much better," she sighed contentedly. Jon sat on the floor by her feet stretching his legs out toward the fire. "You know, you'd better not let anyone else seeing you do that. How the servants would screech. It's such a crime for royalty to sit on the floor after all."

Jon glared at her a moment, before turning back to his drink. "Finish your tea, woman, and tell me about your day."

"Okay, fine, what do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"All right, but it's going to take a while."

"We don't have anywhere else to be, so that's fine with me, love."

They spent the next hour and a half bemoaning about how horribly the day had gone for them, with interuptions of the other's laughter. Afterward, Jon told Alanna, "I believe you may have had a worse day than I did, for once, Alanna."

"Thanks, it's so nice to know that I have your sympathy."

"You do, or I wouldn't have made the comment." He chuckled quietly.

Alanna didn't reply. Instead, she thought about what Jon had said. It was true that most evenings, Jon came back to her complaining of headaches and impatience with one noble or another. Alanna, to her credit, had yet to complain about his behaviour. Rather than grouse about his attitude, she gave him a headache cure (much like the one she had taken this evening) and listened intently to his problems in an attempt to help him solve them.

And, by and large, she had helped him. It had been her suggestion to make Geoffrey of Meron the new King's Champion when Duke Gareth of Naxen gave up the post a week after giving up his post as Prime Minister to his son. Jonathan had been adamant that he wanted Gary as Prime Minister and Raoul to take over the King's Own as the new Knight Commander, and Alanna was left out of the question as Jonathan had told her when explaining the problem. "I know you can fight well, Alanna, and I don't want you to feel that I'm taking away your shield, or treating you as a damsel-in-distress. I just don't think it's fair for you to be the Queen and then take up the duties of the Champion on top of that. Besides the Champion is supposed to rule when both the King and Queen are not available, and I don't think it's possible for you to rule if you're not in Tortall," he had told her then, and Alanna had to admit, there was reason behind his logic. Frankly, she was grateful that she wouldn't be Champion -- it was one less thing for her to do. So, Alanna had suggested making Geoff the new Champion. After all, his reputation was as good as hers was (save that he was better at wrestling and math). Everyone, except Geoff, had quickly agreed to the idea, and in the end, Geoff backed down into accepting the position.

"Alanna?" Jon's voice broke through her thoughts and brought her back to the present.

"Hmm?"

"Are you all right, sweet?"

"Yes, I was just thinking. Sorry."

"Thinking about...?"

"How fast everything is moving." She smiled down at him as she placed her now empty tea cup back in it's saucer on the coffee table in front of her.

"It's only moving fast because we've been endlessly busy."

Alanna laughed. "You're telling me! How long has it been since we've had a nice quiet evening like this?"

"At least a month and a half," Jonathan said getting up, "and _I_ think we should make the most of it." He pulled her up out of her chair and kissed her before she could say anything. Her only reply was laughter as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

"I can walk, Jon," Alanna said dryly. Jon set her on the floor gently, and she flopped onto the bed, as he laughed.

"I know, but why walk when you don't have to?" He kissed her again, before getting up to bolt the bedroom door.

"Do you have a problem with me walking?"

"When I want to carry you, yes. Do you have a problem with me carrying you?" Alanna smiled, and Jon kissed her neck.

"I think I could get used to it."

"Good, because I think you might just have to." Alanna laughed, as Jon took off his tunic and threw it into a corner of the room. He returned to kissing Alanna, who in turn began to attack the buttons on his shirt, but Jon stopped her.

"What?"

"I'm not done yet," he informed her ("I should hope not," Alanna muttered), "and you're distracting me."

"Get over it, Princey," Alanna replied, using the nickname Raoul had given Jon during Alanna's squirehood. She returned her attention to the buttons on his shirt -- a grey, silk one that he had worn often since the Court's mourning had begun. Jon tilted her face up a couple inches, and kissed her, amused to find that she was still grinning.

"I'm king now, I'll have you know."

"Have you been crowned yet?" she asked between kisses.

"No. That doesn't--"

"Then you're not king yet, love. Even though you _are_ ruling the nation. So therefore, that nickname still applies." She kissed him again.

"Yeah, but I still hate it."

"Too bad. Can't have everything you want, can you?"

"Yes I can."

"Prove it."

"If I said I wanted you (and I do), would you say no?"

"That depends on whether you're being nice to me or not." She laughed at his look of consternation.

"Gods, woman, you drive me crazy."

"Glad to be of service."

"I still love you anyway."

"I'm glad. I don't know what would happen to me if you didn't." She kissed him back, and no further words were said -- for a time.

* * *

"Jon, you know before when you were teasing me with my key?" It was several hours (and many kisses) later, and Jon and Alanna were still happily curled up together. 

"You want that to happen every evening." Alanna sat bolt upright.

"Goddess no! There is no way that is happening every day!" Jon chuckled as he made her lie down agian.

"What about it, sweet?"

"Where did you find my key? I could have sworn I had it with me."

"You must have dropped it at lunch, love. Faithful came back from the kitchens early this afternoon with it. He said he couldn't give it to you without risking the loss of his tail, so he gave it to me. You wouldn't have been fencing with Gary again, would you?" he asked in a mock stern voice.

"No -- with Geoff. He keeps trying to convince me that I should be Champion, not him."

"I would have made you Champion, but --"

"I know, Jon. Honestly, I don't mind that you didn't. It's good for Geoff to get a reward once in a while," Alanna remarked sleepily. Jon laughed and wrapped his arms around his beloved, quickly falling asleep.

**A/N: Wow, another chapter done. You all know what that means. Yes, it is time for you to post your review... You know that you want to anyway... Any reviews would be nice...  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, I'm back... With another chapter for you. This was kind of my idea of what the first Midwinter would be like... Hope you enjoy it...**

**Disclaimer: I promise you, I don't own one thing in this story. Well, except the plot... Anyway, you have to promise not to sue me, because I don't own it!**

Chapter 18

The next week was Midwinter, and, due to mourning, no balls or parties of any kind were planned. While Alanna was thankful that there were no parties she was expected to attend, she was also extremely busy planning her wedding, wrapping Midwinter gifts, keeping in shape, and, in her free time, talking to Myles or Thom while Jonathan was busy planning his coronation – "It has to be done sooner or later, and I would prefer it done sooner," Jon had told everyone when they asked why he was spending his days worrying about something that would inevitably happen that year. Gary, who pestered Jon about things more than anyone, was still alive only because he had finally learned to keep his sarcasm away from Jonathan's temper.

Unfortunately, planning the coronation came at a very high price, for Alanna, at least. If she thought that Jonathan had been wound up when he was only ruling the country for his father, she found that he was twice as prickly when also confronted constantly with his own coronation. One night when Jonathan had come "home" three hours and forty-five minutes late, he described the master of ceremonies, Upton Oakbridge, as being "fussier than half the ladies at Court." Alanna had had to fight hard to keep her face straight. After ten minutes of struggling, she finally started laughing. Needless to say, it did not improve Jonathan's mood.

Oakbridge had also changed the Champion's Oath. It no longer sounded as noble and masculine as it had before. Alanna thought it rather sounded like marriage vows. Geoffrey had been mortified at the text he was to memorize in just under a month.

All in all, Alanna was thankful to reach the week-long holiday. It meant that she could finally relax. Jonathan, however, remained busy until the third day of the holiday. Neither Alanna nor Jonathan were too happy about this. That night, Alanna was sitting chatting with Faithful and having a cup of tea when Jon walked in.

He looked exhausted and seemed to have aged about ten years since she had seen him that morning. "Praise Mithros I have the rest of the week to myself – and you, of course," he sighed, smiling at Alanna. He sat down next to her on the couch, and Alanna made to get up and get him a cup of tea. Jon reached out and pulled her back down. "Don't worry about it, love, I'll be fine." He leaned over and kissed her chastely.

"Are you sure? You look exhausted."

"Oh, all right, then. I suppose I must take my posset like a good boy, and then go to bed."

"So, someone's finally becoming himself again. That's good news," Alanna said absently. "Anyway, this isn't a posset, and you know very well if it was, you would have been in bed all day. And, no, I'm not going to tell you to go to bed."

"Then what _are_ you going to tell me to do?" Alanna handed him his tea before sitting beside him again.

"Stay here and tell me what's bothering you."

"The fact that I've been treating you horribly the past few weeks."

"Nonsense. It can't be worse than you having to deal with my temper." Jon started to protest but Alanna cut him off with a kiss. "For once in your life, do me a favor and shut up."

Luckily for him, Jonathan knew when Alanna was ready for a change of conversation – he thought it was one of the reasons she had always been one of his closest friends. "So, the little Lioness is playful in the evening, is she?" Alanna only smiled. "I guess I'll have to do something about that."

"If it involves tickling me, you're sleeping on the floor tonight." Jon chuckled.

"No, it involves this." And, without any warning, he kissed her again, and again. Alanna felt herself drowning in happiness, and the rest of the evening passed in pure bliss.

* * *

The next morning, Alanna woke up to find a spider crawling up her leg, and jumped out of bed with a small scream, and threw back the covers searching for the offender. Jonathan rushed in from his study and held her close. 

"Alanna, darling, are you all right? I thought I heard you scream." Alanna didn't move – she was shaking too hard. She felt Jon rubbing her back consolingly. "Alanna?"

"Th-there was a spider crawling up my leg."

"No, love, there wasn't." Alanna looked up at him in confusion. "I was trying to wake you. I forgot that you're scared of spiders. I'm sorry. It worked though, you got up." **(A/N: Thank you, tortallanrider, for that wonderful idea…)**

Alanna shuddered before replying. "If this is your alternative to tickling me, you can go back to the tickling." Jon chuckled.

"Are you all right now?" Jon kissed her cheek.

"I think so."

"Then get dressed. It's time for you to see your present."

* * *

Five minutes later, Jonathan was leading a blindfolded Alanna somewhere – apparently he had hidden his present outside of their rooms. Alanna felt that she was going over hills sometimes. Jon led her carefully down one staircase, and then up another. Once, she felt a blast of ice cold air. 

"Jonathan, tell me you are _not_ dragging me out into the gardens this time of year." She felt the cold air pass, as Jon chuckled, and the hall echoed with the sound of his voice.

"We're not anywhere near the gardens, sweetheart. That was just a window. Come on." He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Some twenty minutes after passing the window, Alanna felt herself being led up a steep spiral staircase. Quite suddenly, Jonathan stopped and kissed her. "Wait here for a minute, love."

"Can I take the blindfold off?"

"Not yet." The both fell silent, and Alanna could hear a key being turned in a lock. Next moment, there was a _click_ and the long creak of an old wooden door opening. Footsteps echoed as Jon turned back to Alanna, and a warm hand enveloped hers before gently tugging her forward. The flagged stone beneath her feat became soft and plush. The coldness Alanna had experienced since passing the window melted away before the sounds of a fire crackling merrily somewhere off to her left. She was gently stopped again.

"I don't think I want to take the blindfold off yet. You seem so vulnerable this way. I could easily take advantage of you – though I don't think you'd complain if I did." From the sound of his voice, he was teasing her. His voice didn't echo anymore, and the rug Alanna assumed she was standing on absorbed most of the sound of Jon's footsteps. At the last moment, Alanna's foot shot out, and tripped Jonathan. He came crashing down to her left, laughing.

"Am I still vulnerable, then?"

"Hardly, dearest. Come down here, and I'll take the blindfold off." He gently tugged on her hand again, guiding her to his lap. As soon as the blindfold slid off, Jon started kissing her. "I love you, Alanna. Happy Midwinter."

Alanna took his words as permission to explore the room she now found herself in. It was the most luxurious and beautiful set of rooms she had ever seen. She and Jon had been sitting on a soft Tyran rug, much like the one Alanna had seen in King Roald's study.

To her left, was a small, but comfortable sitting room. As Alanna had guessed earlier, there was a fire dancing in the grate. The sitting room had a soft, light blue carpet, and several comfortable armchairs, as well as a couch. The floor of the sitting room had been dropped six inches below that of the entrance way, and columns held up the ceiling above the sitting room. In the corner, a beautiful winding stair made of soft oak led upstairs. Alanna looked back at Jon, who was watching her. "This has got to be the only set of rooms in the Palace that has an upstairs." Jon chuckled. "By the way, who lives here?"

"We do, now."

"When did we move?"

"This morning, while you were still sleeping. What do you think?"

"From what I've seen," she called as she disappeared upstairs, "this place is amazing." Alanna glanced around the upper floor. Straight in front of her, was a balcony, just now covered in snow. Alanna approached in some trepidation – it was bound to be freezing, and she _hated_ the cold! The view outside was worth it though. She could see where the River Olorun split the capital in half, and beyond the city boundaries, and the fields beyond, there was a tiny glimpse of the sea, where Alanna supposed Port Caynn was situated. Jon came up behind her, and just held her.

After a while, he mentioned, "You haven't seen everything yet. Are you going to come back inside, or continue to combat your fear of the cold?" Alanna slapped him on the arm, and Jon chuckled. "I suppose I did ask for that. Come on." With one last glance at the view over her shoulder, Alanna followed him back inside. To her right, a set of double doors stood firmly shut. Alanna carefully opened the doors and went inside to find a private sitting room. _I guess the room downstairs was a lounge, not the sitting room_, she thought.

She left quietly, and crossed the hallway to find the bedroom. She went to sit on the bed, as Jonathan leaned against the doorframe. Alanna fell back, with a small "Oh." Jonathan laughed.

"I guess a should have warned you that we have –"

"A waterbed? Well, that will take getting used to. Help me up, will you?" Jonathan came over, but instead of helping her up, pushed her back onto the bed, kissing her. "I love you too, Jon, but I asked you to help me up, not push me back down."

"But I don't want to help you up, sweet – I want you to stay here with me."

"Please help me up? I promise we can try the bed out later. Come on." Jon laughed as he helped her up.

"So, should I tell Raoul and Gary that the Lioness needed help getting out of bed today?" He pulled her up, and kissed her again.

"You do, and you're a dead man, king-to-be or not." Alanna went to explore the privy. "Our bathtub is a swimming pool," Alanna informed Jonathan. Jon started to laugh.

"I thought you might say that." Alanna turned around, spotting another staircase.

"Where does that go?"

"Why not go find out for yourself? It's not going to lead you somewhere dangerous, love."

"Thanks so much for the consolation, Jonathan dear." Jon just smiled back, trying his hardest not to laugh. Alanna never called him that, except when she was being sarcastic. Alanna crossed the room and disappeared down the stairs.

"Goddess! This has got to be the nicest study I've seen.… The books look boring though. Well, except the history ones."

Jon laughed and followed her downstairs, into a study lined with bookshelves. On one wall, there was a small fireplace, though it stood cold and empty. A handsome mahogany desk and chair sat in the center of the room, on top of another Tyran rug. Alanna was in one corner inspecting the book collection.

"There's one last room for you to see. Actually, I wouldn't mind seeing it either.…" Alanna turned to face him.

"And why are you so anxious to see this room?" She walked over to his side, and Jon put a hand around her waist.

"You shall see."

"All right then, lead on." Jon gave her a quick kiss before leading the way into what turned out to be a simple dining room.

"In case we decide not to dine with our beloved Court," Jon explained. Alanna stared to laugh. She noticed that the tabled had been set for lunch.

"This wouldn't be the reason you wanted to see this room, would it?" She pointed at the lunch set for two.

"Actually, it would. Can we eat soon please? I'm famished."

"What is it with men and their stomachs? I swear you lot are always hungry."

"Are not. We just eat more than women, that's all."

"I've noticed. Well, I suppose I shall indulge you since you gave me such a wonderful present this morning."

Over lunch, Alanna asked why the suite was so luxurious. "Well, it's the set of rooms that the monarchs traditionally live in."

"So these were your parents' rooms?"

"No. No one has lived here since my grandfather died. Mother and Father stayed in the rooms that traditionally belong to the heir. Father was uncomfortable in these rooms, and Mother saw no need to move just because Father became king."

"So which rooms were we staying in?"

"The Champion's. Uncle Gareth decided to stay with his family even after he became Champion. Besides, he was also the Prime Minister, another position with allotted rooms, and he couldn't inhabit both at one time. Anyway, what do you think of it?"

"I love it! You're going to have to show me the way here though…."

"It's just down the hall from our old rooms, sweet. I just led you around because I wanted you to lose that damn sense of direction you've got."

"Hey! That 'sense of direction' has saved me more than once. It saved you too, once or twice."

"I know, but I wanted to surprise you today." He leaned over and kissed her. "Now, if you're done, I believe you said something about trying out the bed?" Alanna put her head in her hands. It was as much exasperation as it was to hide her smile.

"Jonathan, you are incorrigible, but I love you."

"I love you too, sweet. Come on." Thus, the couple's first Midwinter passed – in utter joy and laughter.

**A/N: Okay, it might be a little bit confusing, I'm sorry... If you have any questions, just review and ask me! And even if you're not asking me a question, REVIEW ANYWAY! Thank you so much.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Edited 7/22/07**

**Disclaimer: I don't own; you don't sue. Simple.**

* * *

Chapter 19

It was only later that week that Alanna and Jonathan realized that Thom had gone missing over the holidays. Jon sent the Palace Guards and the King's Own search through the Palace and City numerous times, and Alanna often searched the Palace on her own.

A couple of weeks after Thom's disappearance, the couple had an argument about whether or not to continue the search. Alanna refused to give up on her twin, but Jonathan told her that it was time to pull the Palace Guard and King's Own out of the mage hunt.

"I agree that we can pull out the Guard and the Own, but just give up on Thom? That isn't right. He's my twin, you can't expect me to not search for him Jonathan!"

"Alanna, I realize that I can't really tell you anything – you've always been stubborn and independent – and that's fine, and I realize that you're concerned for Thom, but he hasn't shown up in a fortnight. What makes you think that he'll suddenly turn up?"

"I don't know, maybe the fact that he's a mage?" Alanna asked in mock-thought.

"Granted, but wouldn't he have told you if he was going to try and become invisible? And I think we would have noticed random things floating in the halls if that was the case! Look, Alanna," he sighed wearily, "I love you, and I know that you're worried about him. I don't mean to sound like I suddenly don't care, but you need to take a break. You've been searching noon and night, and where has it led?" Alanna made a strange sound that sounded like she was holding back a sob. Jon swept her into a hug. "It'll be all right. Shh… It'll be fine, love."

"I'm just scared for him. I just don't – _sigh_ – I just don't know what's happened to him."

"So, where do you intend to search for him? We've searched everywhere in the City and Palace both."

"Wait…. Did we check Thom's rooms? I can't remember…. Maybe we should ask George what to do….But I'm scared to talk to him after what happened last time. I don't know what to think. Come on, it's bedtime and past. We can debate this in the morning just as well as now."

"Probably better actually." Alanna raised her eyebrows in question. "Well, we'd be more awake to debate it." Alanna had to stifle her laugh quickly.

"Come on, let's turn in. Sometime tonight would be nice." She tripped tiredly over her own feet. Jon caught her just before she hit the floor. "I think you're too tired to walk tonight, dear heart. I suppose I'll just have to carry you."

"Thank you." She gave him a small kiss.

The next morning, Alanna went across the Palace to Thom's rooms, Faithful at her heels. She was shocked when she found the door opened and unlocked. She sent her magic rippling through the rooms to check for anything dangerous or unusual. The only unusual thing she sensed was a layer of dust that had settled over the rooms. Thom was not here.

Alanna stepped inside quickly to search the rooms herself. She closed the door, and looked around. Books and papers were scattered everywhere, as if the winter wind had been allowed free reign in the mage's rooms. Other than that, nothing was out of place. Alanna entered her brother's workshop, wondering if he had left any projects behind when he left the Palace – for so she guessed he had done. She just didn't know why. Faithful yowled from the entry way. _Alanna!! Come here!_

The young knight cautiously entered the foyer where her cat stood, as if guarding the envelope under one foot. _Look at this! It seems that Thom left something to explain his absence,_ he said as she picked it up.

Once opened, Alanna discovered the envelope had contained a letter in Thom's unmistakable handwriting. She collapsed onto a nearby chair, and began to read, tears filling her eyes as they traveled down the page.

_My dearest Alanna,_

_I am so sorry that I am unable to tell you this in person, but I cannot find the courage to tell you this face-to-face._

_For some time, I have, as you know, been trying to learn everything I can to become the best mage the world has ever seen. My attempts have failed, and left me a dishonorable person in their wake. Perhaps you do not understand. Very well then, I shall tell the tale from the beginning._

_Of course you remember killing Roger, the night you were made a knight. That night is the beginning of my story. You had killed the greatest sorcerer of the century, and everyone was awestruck, and wondered how you had accomplished this. After all, so great a sorcerer does not die easily._

_You left, scared of yourself perhaps, right away – to go on your adventures, and who could blame you? But no one was left to explain how you had saved the lives of the Royal Family. Rumors started that you had used a great magic in your duel, a magic that overpowered Roger's. At first, all of the people here who love you denied any such thing, and said that it was merely your own strength that had destroyed Roger, for so you yourself had said, though indirectly._

_But as the months passed, and you did not return, I admit, I began to believe the rumors, and began to feel envious of you and your power. I met a young knight, only a couple of years older than us, Alexander of Tirragen, who had long been telling the Court that you were a dishonorable witch who should be put down. As our friendship grew, I was introduced to others, like Delia of Eldorne. They told me that if I helped them continue Roger's cause, your powers would be left to me at your imminent death, as I was your closest relative._

_This is the hardest part of the story for me. I know you will despise me, and you are right to do so, my dear sister. But I was so overcome with my greed for power that the small protestations of the part of me that was still loyal to you went unheard. I joined the rebellion to throw down the Royal Family. I became something you would not have recognized, had you known the truth that I was so afraid to tell you when you came back. I was asked to raise Roger from the dead, as the Earthshaker was said to have been able to do. I failed, Alanna. I failed, and yet had to keep trying. In the end, when I couldn't succeed, I was sent to become the next Rogue, and kill the one who lived. I became little more than an assassin, and I will die with that blood on my hands. And I sense that the end is soon. If you have any doubt of the truth I am telling you, the Rogue can tell you the rest of the story, for the part that I can tell is at a close._

_I am so sorry, Alanna. Please forgive me, traitor that I am. I can never reverse what I have done, or make reparations, but please remember the brother of your youth, the brother who would have done anything to protect you. The last chapters of my life will no doubt bring you pain, but with my passing, you are protected from the evil I wrought._

_All my love_

_Thom_

Alanna was sobbing as she reached the end of the letter. "Well, I suppose we have a trip to make, don't we?"

_I'm sorry._

"I know. Come on, I want to get this over with."

_The Dancing Dove_ was full when Alanna walked in with Faithful wrapped around her shoulders. She wondered if George would be able to tell her what had happened to Thom and if, perhaps, he would forgive her for what she had said. Just now though, she was more worried about Thom and hearing what had happened to him than what George thought of her.

As soon as she entered the _Dancing Dove_ she heard a shout from the back. "Hey! 'Tis Alanna – th' lass is back! George, c'mere! Th' lass is back!" Next thing Alanna knew, she was pushed up towards the chair George usually occupied. She stood there, somewhat awkwardly, not knowing how to begin.

"So wha' brings ye back here, lass? Come t' break me hear' again?"

"Don't be so dramatic. I didn't do anything except tell you what was going on in my life, as any friend would do, and hope that you would be happy for me. And no, that's not what I came for. I have – I have a request for you." She sighed. "During the holidays, my brother disappeared. He left me this letter to explain the reason for his disappearance. He – he said I should ask you for details of what happened, though."

"An' why would I do tha', lass? Why should I do anythin' for ye anymore?"

"Because you're the only one who can. I'm desperate, George. Please, just tell me what happened to Thom. And then I will leave you to drown your sorrows."

"Well, aren' ye in luck? I jes' happen t' have some infermation for ye. Yer brother's dead, an' good riddance. I killed 'im meself." Despite the harshness of his voice, George seemed to be rethinking his opinion of the small woman before him.

"What do you mean 'good riddance'?"

"'M sure tha' even in th' Palace ye lot 'eard rumors 'bout th' death of Claw?"

"Yes. The Provost heard about it, and said that he only wished that he could have killed Claw himself. He told Jon and me when we asked him to send the Palace Guard out to search for Thom. The letter seemed to be pointing to Thom being Claw but I didn't want to believe it."

"An' a trai'or t' boot. 'E 'elped Delia t' smuggle them men-a'-arms in'o th' Palace durin' th' Queen's funeral. Didn' ye know?"

"No, I didn't. But then again, I wouldn't ordinarily suspect my _twin_ of doing something like that. Anyway, I guess it all fits. Myles said he recognized Claw's voice from somewhere, he wasn't sure where, but it sounded like a noble from a northern fief. Thank you, George. If you'll excuse me, I have to be leaving." Alanna got up from the chair that she had been forced to sit in, and started towards the door, but George called her back.

"Lass, wai' a minute, will ye? I – I'm sorry about yer brother. An' I am happy fer ye an' Jon. I 'ope yer happy in all ye do, an' that life is good to ye, though it don't appear to be so good at the momen'. Can ye fergive me fer them things I did to ye?

"I don't know. Give me time to think about it. Please." Alanna turned and walked away, waving a short farewell to George before beginning her journey back up to the Palace.

**A/N: Good? Bad? I don't really like this chapter, but I had to get the plot moving, sorry. Anyway, leave your comments with me please. Up here, on this desk in the front of the classroom. Yes, that's the right box to leave it in. Good job.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry it took me so long to update... But I was really working on hard on it,... and my school work,... and babysitting,... and playing my clarinet... Okay, so I've got a busy schedule! I really am sorry it took so long. Hope you like the new chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I barely have time to finish my homework before midnight every night. How do you expect me to find time to do all the book tours that TP does, oh, and write a new book or two? In other words, however much I might wish it, none of this (that you recognize) is mine...**

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Chapter 20

Five weeks later, Corus was full of activity. The coronation of Prince Jonathan was fast approaching. Extra members of the King's Own were placed on duty at the city gates as people flooded into the capital. The Provost and his "men" (the Palace Guard) could be found riding through the city almost daily with the King-to-be. Jonathan had expressed a wish to get to know his people.

The Palace was every bit as busy as the city. Nobles and foreign ambassadors flocked to Corus from around the country and the Eastern lands. Master Oakbridge was using his army of servants to clean out the long-unused rooms of the Palace for guests and to "uncover the old glory of the Palace."

And everywhere, the single topic of conversation was the coronation. Servants and common men tended to talk and fantasize about what foods would be served. Female servants and commoners were stressed as they attempted to take care of their mistresses, sew their dresses in time for the coronation, and help clean the Palace. Foreign diplomats tended to talk about the lives of the more powerful and influential members of the Tortallan Court (Alanna and her friends included). Noblewomen all discussed their new dresses, and young noblewomen gossiped about who was being escorted by who, and the older noblewomen chatted about family life over tea. Noblemen (including some foreign diplomats) crowded the practice courts to judge one another on how much they had gone to seed, and to attempt to challenge the Lioness to a fencing match.

The day before the coronation, Alanna could be found sitting on the couch in her sitting room with Jonathan. Well, no, that wasn't quite right – Jonathan wasn't sitting, he was sleeping, stretched out the length of the couch, and unashamedly using Alanna's lap for a pillow. Alanna sighed – this was the first time she had had a chance to be with him privately for a week (generally, she was asleep by the time he came back from his various duties), and he was the one sleeping.

Of course, he deserved that sleep. He had spent much of the last five weeks meeting his nobles and the foreign diplomats, patrolling the city, and getting to know his people, while still ruling the country.

Alanna yawned, fighting the urge to close her eyes and nap for a bit. Her thoughts turned to Jonathan again. He would be facing the Ordeal of Kings tomorrow at dawn, after sitting vigil all night. He had asked her to sit with him, for comfort's sake, but Alanna suspected that he was scared he wouldn't come out alive, but didn't want to worry her.

Alanna yawned again. Surely, since she would be staying up all night, no one would frown on her for an afternoon nap? After all, she wasn't expected to be anywhere at the moment, and wasn't doing anything, so there would be no harm in sleeping. She just had to stay still and not kick Jon off the couch….

…"– Alanna, darling." The voice sounded distant as if the speaker was calling to her over hundreds of miles. "Alanna." The voice was closer now. Someone was shaking her gently, as if trying to wake her. Alanna groaned and rolled over. It couldn't have been more than an hour since she had fallen asleep. _Definitely not time to wake up yet,_ she told herself.

The person trying to wake her chuckled. "Come on, love, you have to wake up. I know you like your sleep, but it's time to get up! Well, if you won't get up because I ask you, I suppose I could always start tickling you…." Alanna shot up, finding herself in Jon's lap.

"Don't you _dare_ tickle me, Jonathan! What did I ever do to you to deserve that?"

"Not wake up when I asked you."

* * *

Several hours later, the King-to-be and his betrothed were kneeling, still as statues, on the cold flagged-stone floor, apparently praying. In truth, Jonathan was lost in meditation on his life, Alanna, the Ordeal, Alanna, his coronation, Alanna, and the future. From the look on her face, Alanna was trying to stay awake without worrying about him.

Jon didn't notice the passing time, until a dark robed priest of Mithros gently squeezed his shoulder. He looked up at the windows high above the chapel. They were tinged with the pink and gold hues that come with the early dawn. He jumped in surprise as the Mithran priest touched his shoulder again, pointing to the open Chamber door – it seemed to him to be the gaping mouth of a creature waiting to devour him. He had just gotten a hold on his fear and was about to walk into it when a small hand gently touched his arm.

Jon turned around to find Alanna. Tears were sparkling in the corners of her eyes – she was clearly scared for him. He also saw her love for him in her eyes. He tried to comfort her silently, _Don't worry about me – I'll be fine. I love you so much, Alanna…_ She didn't seem to comprehend, so he pulled her into a tight embrace, and kissed her fiery head lightly.

The priest tapped him again, impatient for the touching farewells to end. Jon sighed and let Alanna go, before turning and walking into the Chamber before anyone else could stop him. Just before he stepped into the overwhelming darkness of the Chamber, he thought he heard a small sniffle behind him, and someone saying softly, "I love you so much, Jon. Please come back."

In the next instant, the door to the Chamber was shut behind him, leaving him in complete and utter darkness. For a few minutes, nothing happened. Then, quite suddenly, he was in the middle of Corus. He could smell charred wood, burned bodies, blood, and over everything else, smoke. His vision was somewhat clouded, and it hurt to keep his eyes open much – there was so much smoke in the air! – but he could make out people running past him, some screaming, and some yelling at him, "Do something for us, Your Majesty! Save us!"

Jonathan opened his mouth to say, "I can't do anything if I don't know what the problem is!" but then remembered the Ordeal. He was forbidden to speak until the Chamber finished with him. He turned to look behind him, and saw the Palace burning spectacularly. He started to run, to find the people he cared for. As he got closer, he could hear people screaming inside the Palace. _Alanna! Please, don't be in there! Please be somewhere safe!_ By the time he got all the way to the Palace, it had burned down completely – what parts that could.

As he entered the Temple District, he saw bodies lying on the ground everywhere. Many were burned horribly. He had soon found many of his friends: Raoul, Gary, Duke Gareth, Myles, and others. All were dead. Alanna was nowhere in the muddle of bodies. He became more frantic, as he approached the ruin of the Palace. _Please let her be here! Oh, Mithros let her be here._

Not paying attention to his footing, he tripped over someone's body. He looked back – he couldn't tell who it was, they were face down. He would have said that their hair had once been a bright red, but it was burned horribly. He began to panic when he realized that the hair _was_ red. _Oh, gods, please, if this is Alanna, let her be alive..._ Slowly, he turned the body over. It was indeed Alanna, but she was barely recognizable. Her eyes were shut, and half of her face was blackened by soot and she had burns all over. There were also many cuts, bleeding sluggishly. Jonathan checked her pulse quickly. It was faint, but it was there. She was dying, and he could do nothing. He had been warned that he could not use his magic in the Chamber, and even if he could, Alanna was too injured for him to heal her. Tears filled his eyes with that knowledge, and Jonathan sat, pulling her into his lap.

She drew in a ragged breath, and opened her eyes slowly. "Jonathan?" She started choking on the smoke still filling the air.

_I'm here, my love. Shh, it's going to be all right. I'm right here._

"Jonathan, where were you? I was searching for you. When I couldn't find you, I tried to get as many people out as I could. Most got out okay. Do you know if they're all right? What happened? I feel so sleepy…. I love you, always…." She closed her eyes again.

Jonathan didn't know how long he sat holding her, but he knew she was slowly dying, and her breathing was gradually fading. There finally came a time when she stopped breathing, and her body stiffened some. Jonathan's eyes widened. Desperate, he grabbed her wrist to check her pulse – it was gone.

_Alanna! No! Please don't leave me! Please! Don't go! I love you… Please, don't leave me._ He knew it was no use. She was dead, and she wouldn't come back. Jonathan looked up at the darkening sky, beginning to weep. _No, no, no, no, no! She can't be dead! NO…_

The scene around him faded, and Jonathan found himself back in the Chamber. Anguish and fear of what he had seen still gripped him. He beat the black floor to each side of him with his fists. He felt bones breaking in both hands, but he couldn't care, not after what he had seen. He didn't realize that the Chamber had opened until he felt blazing white light hit his streaming eyes. Slowly, he picked himself up off the floor and stumbled, exhausted, out of the Chamber. He tripped and fell into someone's arms.

A sigh went up from the crowd assembled in the chapel. The King-to-be had survived. Jonathan tried to stand from whoever's arms he was resting in, but found he didn't have the strength. He searched the crowd from his position, looking desperately for Alanna. He didn't see her anywhere. He sighed, whispering, "Alanna, where are you?"

A voice – Alanna's voice – answered from above him, "I'm right here, my love. Surely, you didn't think I would leave while you were in that devil place? Can you stand?"

"I'll try," he answered, tiredly. He tried again, and Alanna helped to push him upright.

"Come on, let's go. I'm so glad you're all right. I was so scared." Slowly, they left the chapel. Fifteen minutes later, he sank, absolutely exhausted, into bed, beside Alanna. Alanna squeaked in surprise as Jon pulled her into his arms. He didn't care, he wasn't going to let go of her.

"I love you, Alanna. I won't let you die like that, I promise." He leaned down and kissed her.

"I know, love. I know. Sleep. It's all over."

He was only too happy to follow her command. He closed his eyes tiredly. His last coherent thought, before sleep muddled his brain, was, _She's right. Praise Mithros it's over._

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**A/N: So, was it worth the wait? Don't worry, chappie 21 is in the process of being typed up... Please, do me a favor, all of you. Just leave me a review... Thanks so much.**


	20. Chapter 20

**YAY!!!! New chapter -- fianlly!! I'm so sorry that it took me so long, but it's finally up!!! I felt I owed you something by now, and it seemed appropriate to give you the new chapter on my birthday...**

**Disclaimer: Same old, same old. Everyone, the Tamora Pierce books belong to me. Which is why they're known as the Tamora Pierce books. Oh, and there's a line in here that I borrowed from the third Lord of the Rings movie. See if you can pick it out.**

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Chapter 21

The ceremony that evening was nothing short of glorious. Alanna watched, full of pride, as Jonathan was crowned. A blaze of blue and white light glowed around both the crown and the new King. When the light had dimmed, Jonathan met Alanna's eyes, and smiled tiredly.

Alanna glanced around at other members of the crowd. George, disguised as a member of the Palace Guard, was grinning cockily at the Lord Provost. The Provost was sitting directly in front of George's "guard position," with no knowledge that the King of Thieves he so longed to catch was only a yard behind him. George's mother, Eleni, was sitting next to Myles, whispering something in his ear – they had fallen in love over Midwinter, and Myles looked happier than he had in a long time. Gary, Cythera, and Duke Gareth were to Alanna's right. Duke Gareth rolled his eyes bemusedly as Cythera leaned her head on Gary's shoulder, and Gary gently kissed her hair. Raoul, while looking the part of the perfect knight in his brightly polished silver mail and royal blue tunic, looked absolutely exhausted. Alanna wondered how long he had stayed up last night worrying about today's security.

Alanna's eyes snapped back to the front of the chapel as Geoffrey of Meron stepped forward to swear fealty to the King as the new Champion. He also was wearing mail, but his was gold-washed, not unlike the suit of mail Alanna had received on her eighteenth birthday. She noted that the look on Geoff's face looked rather similar to the look a prisoner facing execution might be expected to wear.

"Gracious Majesty," he called out in a ringing voice, "accept this, my oath of fealty to you and your heirs forever, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, until my lord releases me or death takes me." By the end of his short speech, Geoffrey's face had turned scarlet. Alanna and many of Geoff's other friends laughed (Geoff blushed harder), and even Jon's voice held restrained laughter when he replied, "I accept your fealty, Sir Geoffrey. Rise."

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After the ceremony, Jonathan and his entourage rode through Corus and the surrounding countryside, greeting the peasants ("Subjects!" Myles mumbled rebelliously) who lined the roads outside their homes to greet their new King. Sometimes, Jonathan stopped at a particularly poor home to talk with the family and give them a small bag of coins. 

The group of nobles had stopped _again_, and Alanna was starting to shift uncomfortably. She really wasn't used to sitting side-saddle, as her gown required. Cythera caught Alanna's eye and winked good-humoredly. It had been a joke among Alanna's friends lately that she would have to sit side-saddle.

Fifteen minutes passed as an elderly inhabitant of the home they were visiting recounted her life-story to Jonathan. Alanna shifted again -- _When I die, I am going to find the soul of the man that thought it was a good idea for women to ride side-saddle, torture him, and kill him again!!_ she thought furiously – she noticed Jonathan shifting from foot to foot impatiently. Too busy paying attention to what Jonathan was doing, she slipped from her rather precarious perch on Moonlight. Luckily, she managed to make it look as if she had merely decided to dismount. Moonlight whickered in concern, and Duke Gareth raised an eyebrow. Alanna sent him a death-glare. He chuckled.

Jonathan, meanwhile, was released from the old woman's tedious tales when Moonlight whickered, and the woman turned to watch the noble lady who'd dismounted. Jonathan took his chance to escape, and went to help Alanna.

"Are you all right, my lady?" he asked her in a courtier's polished tone.

"Yes, sire, I think so. Could you help me –?" Alanna trailed off uncertainly.

Under pretense of helping Alanna remount, he managed to whisper in her ear, "Perfect timing, love." She grinned, and mouthed "Thanks."

The rest of the ride went as planned, and Alanna did not shift her seat for fear of falling again. It wasn't quite spring yet, but the land was starting to thaw out. There were small patches of green grass, and tiny blossoms on some of the trees. Alanna sighed in relief to see the signs of an early end to winter – no more cold weather!

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Once the group was back in the stables, Jonathan came to help Alanna dismount Moonlight, grinning at the thought that she would usually have been down on her own by this point. "Beautiful fall, dearest. Thanks for letting me escape." 

"Anytime. And don't tease."

"What else would I do?" He kissed her before she could reply.

It was normally a fifteen minute walk from the stables to the Grand Ballroom, but Jonathan and Alanna took twice as long. Jon saw fit to pull Alanna into dark corners and kiss her again and again. Alanna didn't mind the display of affection – well, except that she wanted to get the ball over with.

"So, are you planning on missing your own celebration?"

"Haven't you noticed that if a monarch or their family is late, no one really cares?"

"I suppose, but somehow, I don't think the diplomats and nobles want to spend their evening waiting for you to appear so they can get off their feet."

Jonathan put his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right! You win! And, for the forty-second time, how can you say that you can't –"

"Don't finish that sentence if you've already said it forty-two times, please. Can we go now, please?"

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A couple of hours later, the ball had finally started. Alanna, growing bored, started thinking of escape plans. She was just creeping off toward the unwatched side doors when she ran into Jonathan. 

"Of course, you wouldn't be trying to escape, Alanna. After all, it's such a lovely ball and you wouldn't want to miss it." He pulled her into his embrace.

"Now, Jonathan, why would I ever dream of trying to escape from a ball like this? How do you know I wasn't coming to see you?" Jon chuckled into her hair.

"Nice try, sweetheart. I guess I'll just have to find a way to keep you from escaping me. To that end: Lady Alanna, may I have the honor of this dance?"

"I suppose. I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"You will. In about … forty years from now."

"Thanks so much for the encouragement."

"What did you think I'm here for?"

"Extra warmth at night." Jonathan laughed.

"I didn't see that one coming. How is it that you're able to make fun of me on the drop of a pin, like that?"

"I took lessons from Gary."

"That explains a lot."

"Of course it does."

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**A/N: So was it worth the wait? You know what that means!! Review!!! Pretty please? Since it's my birthday? Please?**


	21. Chapter 21

**Okay, peoples, I'm back, after spending a couple months playing with my birthday and Christmas gifts. And getting homework done. So I got bored in class today, and wrote you a new chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: _Must_ we go through this every time? I've already told you, nothing except the plot belongs to me, but to the great and wonderful Tamora Pierce.**

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Chapter 22

Considering that Jonathan had been ruling Tortall since his mother's death, there was little transition to speak of after the coronation. However, the Conservatives became increasingly furious that Jonathan staunchly supported his fiancée as a Knight and, in two month's time, the Queen.

Matters came to a head one day (a month before the wedding) when the Conservatives in the Council tried to push through a mandate that Alanna either give up her shield and become a "proper young damsel of the Court," or break her betrothal to the King. Unfortunately for Alanna, most of the Council members were Conservatives, so the motion passed.

Chaos broke out – mostly righteous anger from Alanna's friends. Jonathan nodded to the Lord Magistrate, Duke Turomot of Wellam, who was trying to bring the Council back to order. Duke Turomot called a page, and asked him to bring Lady Knight Alanna the Lioness of Trebond and Olau to the Council chambers.

Five minutes later, a very confused looking Alanna entered the room, following the page to the center, before the King and Lord Magistrate. She met Jonathan's eyes, silently asking, "What's going on?" Jonathan nodded towards Lord Wyldon of Cavall, who had stood up from one of the side benches to speak for the Conservatives.

"Lady Alanna, you have been called here to make a decision. Today the Council –"

"The Conservatives, you mean," growled Raoul.

"The majority of this council voted in favor of this motion, Goldenlake, so yes, the _Council_ asks that Lady Alanna make a choice between her knighthood or her love for the King. Lady Alanna, which do you choose?"

Alanna looked at Jonathan, fear evident in her face. Jonathan guessed that she was scared of making the wrong choice. Jonathan felt his heart break at the thought of losing Alanna. He tried to tell her that he hadn't wanted this, and would never ask for such a thing. Alanna looked at him a second longer, then turned to address Lord Wyldon.

"May I have more time to think about this, my lord? I fear that I am not able to make such a choice as this instantly."

"The Council needs your answer today, Alanna. You must make your decision – quickly. We have other, more important, matters to discuss today."

Jonathan was trying so hard not to scowl that his head started throbbing. He was furious. Hadn't Alanna taken enough from these men over the past year in the way of insults? Hadn't she proved that her skill was her own, not magical trickery? How dare these impudent men try and force Alanna to make a rash choice that they knew she would later regret? Could they not see the mature woman Alanna was, rather than the lovesick girl they hoped and wanted to see? _I hope they at least give Alanna a few minutes of thought to herself, if only so I could tell her how much I love her._

Lord Wyldon began his response to Alanna: "I do not think that –"

Duke Turomot cut him off. "That request seems reasonable. I call a fifteen minute recess."

After a murmured, "Thank you, Your Grace," Alanna left the room, presumably to find some peace. Jonathan trailed after her. Since the Rose Garden was beginning to bloom in the crisp spring temperatures, Jon strolled outside, enjoying the playful breeze.

He found Alanna, with Faithful on her lap, sitting on what the couple now referred to as "Our Bench." Apparently, Alanna was asking advice from Faithful, for as he approached, she said quietly, "I'm not sure that will work, Faithful. I suppose I can try it, though."

"Try what, love?"

"Nothing, just a bit of advice Faithful gave me." She leaned back in his embrace, smiling softly.

"Are you all right?"

"For now, I guess. I'm just not sure that I know how to handle this. I've worked so hard and long for my shield, but I love you too much to condemn us both to misery for the rest of our lives," she mused.

_So, take my advice, and make a compromise with them, silly mortal. Exchange your willing obedience to this stupid command, if they do something for you that they normally wouldn't consider doing. You can scratch the other ear now._

Alanna lovingly obliged, while Jonathan said, "He does have a point."

_Of course I do. I'm the cat. We always have the wisest solutions._

"If you say so," Alanna muttered.

_Fine, then. Don't take my advice. It won't affect me one way or the other._ With that, the cat stalked away.

For a while, Jonathan and Alanna sat in comfortable silence. Alanna broke it by saying, "So what do you think I should do?" She turned in Jonathan's embrace, and tucked her head under his chin.

"I think Faithful has sound advice, but that you should do what seems right to you. If that means that we break off the engagement, so be it." His voice cracked as he spoke about breaking up.

"Even if it came to that, I would ask if there were some way we could secretly be married, or something."

"Good idea, but it wouldn't work." Jon smirked. "Somehow, I get the feeling that you would hate me for being married to you, but appearing to have children by another woman."

"You're right, as usual. It was an idea, though."

"Besides, I want everyone to know that you're taken."

"Mm…. I think they know that already."

"Just don't ask me to write any sonnets for you. The last time I tried that, it backfired on me."

Alanna groaned. "Did you have to remind me of that? I didn't particularly want to remember."

"Are you suggesting that I'm a bad poet?"

"Well, firstly, you did, and secondly, if I remember correctly, the Mithrans did too."

"Touché."

"You're the one that asked. I was just telling you the truth."

He kissed the top of her head. "I know. I love you."

"Why, because I'm the only woman at Court who will tell you what I think?"

"Add a couple other things, such as humor and beauty" (Alanna scoffed) "and you've got it about right." A bell rang in the distance. "Come on, rest time's over."

"Aw, Daddy, do I have to?"

"Yes, Alanna. Come on."

He heard her whisper something behind him. "What was that?"

"I'm scared." Her playful mask was gone, leaving behind a woman that Jonathan was not entirely sure he knew.

"What of?"

"The fact that no matter what I say, I can't control the outcome of this."

"Hey, it's going to be fine. You'll see. But we need to run before we're late."

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Once back in the Council chambers, Alanna started shifting nervously. All of her friends, including Dukes Baird of Queenscove and Gareth of Naxen, smiled at her and clapped her on the back. 

Finally, Duke Turomot called the Council to order, though the command was unnecessary. He looked at Alanna, as if measuring her. "Have you made your choice, Alanna of Trebond and Olau?"

"In a way, Your Grace." Jonathan looked at Alanna in surprise. _What is she playing at? This isn't the time to make fun of the Conservatives, Alanna!_

Alanna gave the Lord Magistrate stare for stare as she said slowly and clearly, "I propose a compromise. I will give up my shield, _if_, and only if, girls are allowed the right to train for knighthood."

_Well, played, love!_ Jon thought, holding back laughter. He looked around the room. Raoul was coughing conspicuously; Geoffrey had silent tears of laughter coursing down his face; Gary was trying, but failing, to hide a grin behind his large hand; and Myles, Duke Gareth, and Duke Baird all wore courteously amused expressions.

The Conservatives were reacting to Alanna's politely expressed impertinence very differently. Many were stand, gesticulating wildly, and throwing curses and insults at Alanna. Others simply looked like cod out of water, as they gaped at the Lady Knight. Lord Wyldon glared at Alanna as if she had just killed his firstborn son.

As for Alanna, she stood, still watching Duke Turomot and Jonathan. Duke Turomot looked back at Alanna as if she were some new phenomenon he had never experienced. Jonathan smiled quietly, eyes sparkling with a glimmer of mischief and fun.

After a few minutes, the Conservative babble died out. Duke Turomot turned to Jonathan. "What is your opinion on this matter, Your Majesty?"

Jonathan looked at his beloved for a minute before speaking. "We believe that Lady Knight Alanna is too strong and too good a knight and swordsman for us to lose her services completely. We agree with her choice to give up her shield in this decision, but only until the next great conflict."

Jon watched as Alanna's eyes lit up in joy when she realized what he was doing. He continued, "As for allowing girls the right to train for knighthood, we can see no reason to disallow that chance – but not until the nation calms down after the myriad of changes taking place. Are these terms agreeable to you, Lady?"

"I understand and accept, Your Majesty."

_Some days I really wish that I didn't have to always dance around what I truly mean to say. At least Alanna understood completely, even if no one else did._

After Jonathan's speech, the Magistrate continued to ask the opinions of the most highly regarded members of the Council. As they all agreed to the compromise with the King's corrections, a small smile began to grow on Alanna's face. She had won the fight.

Finally, Duke Turomot announced, "Most seem in favor of this compromise. Motion passed. All are dismissed until tomorrow." Everyone rushed to the door, except Alanna's friends.

"Just think – you were just the new backcountry boy when we met," Gary remarked.

"Thanks, Gary. It's nice to know that you remember me so well."

"Well spoken, child," intoned Duke Gareth. "I am impressed. As Gary said, or almost said as the case may be, you have come a long way."

"Thank you, sir."

"And you tell us that you aren't a great diplomat, Alanna. I don't know where you've been all these years to arrive at the conclusion, but today should prove, _even to you_, that you will be a fine ruler."

"Thanks, Myles. No speeches necessary, though."

Raoul picked Alanna up and crushed her in a bear hug. "A-and…I kind of … need to breathe, Raoul." Everyone laughed, as Raoul gently placed Alanna back on the floor.

Jonathan's sentiments were silent, but clear. He picked her up, spinning her and kissing her soundly. After a few minutes, he finally said, "I am never letting you go – even in the afterlife. You're stuck with me, Alanna, for good or for better."

"Gods all help me."

"I always knew there was a reason I like you, Alanna," Geoffrey quipped. "You keep everyone's heads small enough to fit through the door." A loud chorus of laughter answered.

"But what about the _very_ rare times that _I_ need to be shot down?"

"That's what Gary's for."

At that moment, a hoarse, enraged cry rang from the doorway, _"Traitor! You've ruined Tortall!"

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**A/N: Nice little cliffie there, wouldn't you agree? Review, please. We may not live by bread alone, but fanfiction authors certainly live on reviews!**


	22. Chapter 22

**I'm back!!! Okay, so it took me a little bit longer to get back than I was originally anticipating. So I wrote a nice chapter for you in the meanwhile and will get the wedding chapter up soon – yes, the wedding is finally on its way. One of my friends helped me write this, so this chapter is not completely mine. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: No, this is not mine, I make no money off of this -- it'd be nice if I did though.**

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Chapter 23

At that moment, a hoarse enraged cry rang from the doorway: "_Traitor! You've ruined Tortall!"_

Alanna shut her eyes and groaned. "And we were all having such a nice moment too. Must be another one of my many fans." She turned wearily to greet whichever unfortunate soul was screaming at her. It was Lord Wyldon of Cavall, with a drawn sword – two things that Alanna was not in the mood to see. Wyldon charged at her, his eyes filled with a wild fury. Alanna stepped back, scrabbling for the nonexistent sword at her waist, forgetting in the heat of the moment that she had not been allowed to carry it into the hall. She began to panic as her fist clenched around air.

Alanna's moment of pure terror -- watching Wyldon's sword descending towards her collarbone, as if in slow motion -- lasted only a split second. There was a loud crash of metal on metal above her head. Alanna looked up to see a sword protecting her, clenched in the hand, not of Jonathan, but of Raoul! Alanna backed away from the fight, watching Raoul stand there, his sword still locked with Wyldon's, rage filling his dark eyes.

"You little cur," the big knight growled. "How dare you attack an unarmed lady! How dare you insult your future queen! You don't have the right to look at her, let alone speak to her!"

The others, stood shocked and speechless – Gary, looking like a cod out of water; his father, Duke Baird, and Myles, watching wide-eyed and amazed; Jonathan's hand on Alanna's waist quivering; and Geoffrey silently reaching over to pick up the sword that had fallen from his slackened grip – as they watched Raoul defend Alanna's life and honor. Wyldon hissed at him, "And what gives _you_ the right to stop _me?"_ He stumbled as Raoul pushed him back with his sword.

"What right?" Raoul released a short bark of angry laughter. "You're asking me what right I have to stop someone who was about to murder my friend and queen? I hereby challenge you to a duel over the honor of Alanna of Conté, Trebond, and Olau!"

Wyldon fell into the light, confident stance of a man who has fought with a blade for most of his life. He calmly and mockingly waved his sword at Raoul. "All right, then, if this is how you truly wish to die, then have at you!" **(A/N: sorry people, couldn't resist adding a British challenge in there!)**

Raoul growled and stepped into a fighting stance, a murderous glare etched onto his face. Alanna and the others stood back to give the impromptu duelists some space. Jon pulled Alanna closer to his body, whispering in her ear, "Hey, he stealing my job!"

"Jealous of me, are you? Don't worry, this isn't going to last long anyway."

"True as that may be, he's still stealing my job."

"I'm marrying a toddler," Alanna groaned. She looked up at him. "You're lucky I love you." She kissed his cheek, as Jonathan hugged her.

When they turned back to the fight, Raoul had the upper hand. Wyldon was in no condition to be fighting – he was angry, causing him to leave spaces for Raoul to disarm him – spaces Raoul deliberately ignored. Raoul, on the other hand, calmly met Wyldon step for step and cut for cut, almost like a cat playing with a mouse before eating it. Their blades danced gracefully through the air, though Raoul's rang almost mockingly against Wyldon's every time the two swords met. Alanna thought it sounded almost as if the cool metal were laughing at the enraged nobleman. Apparently, the same thought crossed Raoul's mind, as he chuckled shortly. Wyldon grew still angrier.

Gary sighed, turning to Jonathan and Alanna. "At first this seemed like it was going to be really exciting – nice, emotional, surprising beginning, especially from our big friend. But now, talk about the most boring duel of the year."

"You think you're bored?" Jon sniggered into Alanna's hair. "How do you think Raoul feels?"

Alanna rolled her eyes. "What makes this even worse is he's the one fighting the stupid duel."

Raoul yawned, as if in response to the conversation of his friends. He looked off to the side and politely covered his mouth, still blocking every strike Wyldon made. Raoul had lasted this long without going on the offensive, and felt as if he could feel his IQ points dropping with every blow he parried. "You're boring me; do something interesting for a change."

Wyldon began striking harder, breathing hard and fast. His heart was racing and sweat was rolling into his eyes. The angry blows had no affect on Raoul, who looked more bored than ever.

"If that's the way you want to play it, Cavall, then let's end this." Raoul gracefully brought his free hand to rest against the flat of his blade. Wyldon struck, and Raoul allowed himself to be pushed back a few inches. An instant later, Raoul was pushing back, almost pushing Wyldon into the floor. Raoul's fury boiled over, clouding his sense of judgement. He pounced on the prone Wyldon and raised his sword for the killing blow.

"_NO!"_

Alanna's shrill shriek had brought Raoul to his senses. He was yanked, none too gently, off of the other nobleman. Raoul looked down, and saw a red stream of blood flowing from the older man's chest, or maybe that was just the dying light of the blood red sun. Alanna had reacted in time to save the older man, but not fast enough to stop Raoul from severely wounding him. Raoul realized it was Alanna who had stopped him from committing a terrible act. Ironically, he had been fighting to preserve her honor, but she had saved his. Without looking at any of his staring friends, Raoul ran from the room, hands over his eyes, reliving everything he had done that afternoon in an almost surreal way.

Alanna reached out to heal the Lord of Cavall and to make amends, but he shoved her aside, pushed himself to his feet, and almost gracefully loped across the room, stopping in the doorway to look at Alanna.

"I will never forgive you for what you have done to my homeland." He limped out, slamming the door behind him, and Alanna flinched, as if he had slapped her.

Alanna stared at the door in a trance. It seemed like she could still see the proud nobleman glaring at her for a crime she had not realized she'd committed. Time stretched endlessly in one continuous moment.

"Alanna?" The quiet voice came from behind her. Alanna jumped at the sound, turning. She saw Jonathan, standing quietly, in the dark room – the sun had gone down. Everyone else had left.

"Are you all right, love?"

"I don't know. What happened today?" Jonathan embraced her, kissing her hair. He knew that she meant something more than just the events of the day. Something had changed in an important way today, everyone had felt it after Raoul ran from the room. But no one had known how to talk about it.

"I don't know, Alanna. I don't know."

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**A/N: I think I'll leave it here. Make you think about the ending. lol. Don't forget to tell me what you think.**


	23. Chapter 23

**I'm back! With another new exciting chapter for you!**

**Disclaimer: I have temporarily taken over the body and mind of the great Tamora Pierce, and will shortly be publishing this story as the corrected version of _The Woman Who Rides Like a Man_ and _Lioness Rampant_. Honestly, people, do you think I'm that stupid?**

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Chatper 24

Raoul turned as the door to his chambers creaked open. Alanna stepped through; shut and locked the door; and warded the room.

"I don't recall inviting you to visit, or asking you to come in, Alanna." The redheaded woman flinched slightly at the hostility in his voice. Raoul didn't care very much – nothing mattered except being drunk enough to keep the memories of the duel fiasco of two weeks ago at bay.

"Perhaps you did not invite me, Raoul, but I had to come. It's killing me to watch you waste away like this. And for what, to drive all of your friends away?"

Raoul didn't gratify the question with an answer. He didn't even act as though he'd heard.

Alanna continued. "Raoul, what's happened to you? You don't talk to anyone, you hardly eat, you've let the Own off on a loose end for the first time since you took the post of Knight Commander, and the only thing that you _do_ do, as far as I can tell, is sit here and drink."

Raoul still ignored her.

Alanna's voice became more acidic as she asked, "Did you want me to leave you to stew in the misery of your guilt over the duel?"

"Yes, actually, I do. It's got nothing to do with you, Lady."

"It does have something to do with me – it was me who stopped you from murdering a fellow knight, remember? It was my honor you were protecting. So, yes, it does have something to do with me. And no, I'm not going to let you sit here getting plastered." Alanna cleared away all of the alcohol bottles (empty or full, it didn't matter) around the room. Well, to be entirely accurate, Alanna made all of the bottles disappear into thin air. Damn, but magic could be annoying at times. Raoul glared at the young woman he had come to regard as a younger sister.

"It's none of your business how I take care of any leftover emotions I may or may not have from two weeks ago, Alanna. I can take care of myself."

"By getting drunk? Raoul, you made this my business when you stood up to defend my honor. You made this Jonathan's business when you began to neglect your duties to the Own and to the Crown. And when you ignored a royal order or two."

"So you came to soften me up for His Majesty's reprimand, and to remind me that I am expected to rush to your side every time you and Jonathan so much as crook a finger." Raoul found himself standing, his clenched fist two inches away from Alanna's nose.

"No." Alanna spoke calmly, ignoring the threat to her face, an eyebrow elegantly raised. She looked Raoul dead in the eyes as she continued. "I came to help the friend whose guilt is eating him alive." Raoul tried to turn away and found he couldn't. Alanna's stern glance softened as she said, "Look, Raoul, all I want to do is help you, and then I'll leave you in peace, I promise."

"Help," Raoul scoffed, falling into his chair. "I suppose the next part of your bountiful aid will be to haul me up before His Royal Majesty, the omnipotent and omniscient King of Tortall who is kind enough to regale us common folk with his infinite wisdom. When did you become the royal bitch puppy, my lady? The Alanna I remember wouldn't have been able to stand being controlled by anyone, least of all the king." Raoul went to grab the bottle of liquor at his feet, before remembering that Alanna had made it evaporate.

"Thirsty, Raoul?" Raoul barely nodded his head. Alanna conjured a glass of water, and added something to it; Raoul couldn't see what it was. Oh well, didn't matter that much, if it was poison, who cared anymore? It would get him away from this endless guilt. Alanna pushed the drink into Raoul's hand, saying, "Drink this. It'll sober you up."

"Did you ever consider that I might want to be drunk Alanna?" Raoul raged, standing again, cuffing Alanna with the glass he held in his hand. Alanna looked up at him from the floor, but made no move to get up. Raoul noticed a flicker of fear in Alanna's eyes, but a second later, it was hidden behind a mask of firm determination.

"Just drink it please, and then listen to me!" Alanna's desperation was quite plain. Raoul glared at Alanna, then downed the glass of enhanced water. His head became clear for the first time in a week. Raoul sat back down, and stared at the floor.

Alanna slowly picked herself up off the floor, and faced Raoul. "I am _not_ going to force you to do anything else, I promise. I am _not_ going to bring you up before anyone, least of all Jonathan. No one knows I am here. I came because I wanted to help you, not because I have some hidden agenda. All I want is to talk to you, like I've been trying to do for a fortnight. Will you listen to me now?" Raoul nodded.

Alanna continued. "At first, all I wanted was to thank you for defending my honor, and keeping my head in one piece. You did everything you possibly could to avoid me, so I decided it was time for this lovely chat.

"I'm not going to ask you to tell me what's wrong if you don't want to, but it's clear that something is bothering you. Dammit, Raoul, I just want to help you get yourself out of this mess."

Raoul remained silent for a minute. When it was clear that Alanna had finished, he whispered, "I almost killed him, Alanna. I would have too, if you hadn't stopped me." He raised his head to look at Alanna. "Just like I hurt you today. Mithros, I'm so sorry for everything."

"You didn't hurt me that badly. I can take a bruise or two. Honestly, I'm not made of glass, and you can't hit all that hard when you're drunk, Goldenlake," she told him wryly.

"I was more scared than anything when I realized that I'd completely lost control. Everyone was staring at me like I was some sort of monster, and I –I didn't know what to do. So I ran." He felt Alanna grip his arm, comfortingly. "I don't know what happened. One minute I saw Cavall, and the next, I – I just saw red." He returned to staring at the floor between his feet.

"Blood lust?"

"Yeah." After a moment's silence, he spoke up again. "I dream about it every night. Except when I'm drunk. Mithros, it scared me so bloody much when I realized that I'd almost killed him. Even he doesn't deserve to be cut down in cold blood like what I almost did."

Alanna muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Of course he doesn't, he just need to be redirected in his thinking a bit." At a normal volume she asked, "You know the crystal sword I found in the desert?"

"Roger's old sword? Yeah, I remember you telling me about it. Why?"

"The first time I used it, I was helping to defend the Bazhir against the raiders. I wanted to run the raider chief through again and again."

"Yeah, but that was different. Roger warped the sword to do that. That was the sword, not you."

"That's what everyone told me. But I'm not so sure, Raoul. Even when I think back to the fight, with the sword on the other side of the palace, it seems that it was a shame that I had to stick to my honor and not run the man through. Eventually, I got scared enough that I went to go talk to the headman about it. You know what he told me?"

"What?"

"For people who fight as often as you and I do, blood lust is a natural thing, much as we may detest it. It's going to happen sooner or later. You just have to deal with it and go on. Don't waste your life on regrets, Raoul. Yes, you lost control, but it's over." Alanna stood to go, dismantling the wards she'd put up.

"What if it happens again, though?"

"You can overcome it, Raoul. You just have to put your mind to it. Besides, next time will be your chance to prove that the older brother really is stronger than the little sister., right? You won't let me down. Just do me one favor."

"Anything. I owe you big time for knocking sense into my head today."

"No more liquor today or tomorrow."

"Done deal. I swear I'm never touching any liquor again. It turns me into a person I don't like."

"So does this mean that you'll go back to your handsome lads in the Own tomorrow? They're pining without you assigning duties to them."

Raoul sighed theatrically. "I knew this would end up being about me and the Own!"

Alanna grinned cheekily. "But of course, dear Knight Commander, but of course."

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**A/N: I'm not sure that I like this chapter, but I feel that it was important. And don't yell at me for having Raoul drunk -- Tammie said that Raoul had an incident with drinking in his younger days that made him stop drinking, and this is my version of it. Well, that and I didn't know how to continue the story without getting our poor Raoul back on his feet. But review, and tell me what you think!**


	24. Chapter 24

**I am back!!!! With a real beta...finally. Thanks a lot to C.McPherson for editing and all her suggestions: a warm round of applause please... That was the good news, here's the sad news. This story is wrapping up. In fact, the next chapter will probably be the last. If you want me to do a sequel, please include that in your review.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

**Oh, and just a suggestion before you read on: if you haven't already, go check out the edited chatper 19 as there are a couple references to it in this chapter. Thanks guys!! Hope you enjoy it!**

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Chapter 25 

Alanna was napping on the couch in the sitting room, Faithful on her lap, when Jonathan came "home." His mind was still on politics when he came in – the Conservatives were giving him less trouble now that Raoul had come back. Jonathan still didn't know why Raoul had disappeared, but he guessed Alanna's vanishing trick from two days ago had something to do with the Knight Commander's reappearance. Not that either Raoul or Alanna would tell him straight out what had happened. Jon didn't mind too much that Alanna wouldn't tell him – she probably had promised Raoul that she wouldn't breathe a word about the whole affair, and it was worth even Alanna's secrecy to have one of his staunchest friends and allies back, especially when that friend was also on good terms with many Conservative lords.

Jonathan's train of thought broke as he saw Alanna lying across the couch. Faithful stretched sleepily, being careful to avoid scratching his mistress. _So, is it nice to know you've got a short break from warring political groups?_

Jon laughed quietly. "Extremely. But how would you know about that?"

_It was the best sleeping place in the palace with all of the droning voices,_ the cat replied. _Or at least, it was until all the screaming started. Besides, you do talk about it rather 'passionately'. Why not let Alanna become part of your Privy Council and be done with it? It would be more relaxing for you in the evenings, and it would give Alanna something to do. Close your mouth. I saw a rather large fly buzzing around earlier._ The cat hopped down from the couch, and trotted out of the room with a wave of his tail.

The King looked back to the couch thoughtfully. Faithful was right. In fact, Jonathan was surprised at himself. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? Alanna truly would help him in the Privy Council. Now he just had to convince her of that. He gently shook her awake.

"Why is it that you always h-have to wake me up when I'm getting to the exciting part of a dream?" Alanna yawned, before kissing him.

"Oh? What dream would this be?"

"Never you mind." Alanna was afraid to tell him she'd been having another nightmare.

Jonathan wasn't fooled. "Obviously, it wasn't a good dream, or you wouldn't be hiding it."

"It was nothing, really. Just another dream about _him_."

"Thom?"

"Mmhmm. I still can't understand why I didn't notice anything was wrong with him. He was my twin, I should have known!"

"Alanna, that's enough. We've been over this. We both saw the letter, we both know what he did and why. There was nothing you could have done. You said yourself that he was good at being secretive. Just let it go." Jonathan's tone was gentle, but firm.

"Before you got distracted by my nightmares, you wanted to say something."

"Faithful pointed something out to me this afternoon, and I think it will solve a couple of problems."

"Which problems would these be?"

"You being bored out of your mind, and me bringing the day's work home with me."

"You want me on your Privy Council." It was not a question.

"Yes."

Alanna crossed her arms. "This is going to cause a lot of problems, Jon."

"I think you're getting confused, sweet. The _Privy_ Council. Not the whole Council of all the lords."

"Oh. _Right._ And the difference is?"

"That everyone on the Privy Council knows you well and likes you."

"Oh, all right. On one condition."

"What?"

"No talk of politics for the next two weeks."

Jonathan laughed, kissing his love.

"That's one issue out of the way. Now, should we join our beloved Court for dinner, or stay here?"

"Oh let's go down. Everyone will cry if we deny them their last chance to make fun of us before we're married."

Jon smiled before picking up Alanna and carrying her to the door.

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Alanna woke in the middle of the night. Her stomach was full of butterflies. Yes, she was happy to be marrying Jonathan, but nervous about being Queen. Could she be a good ruler? Would people accept her? 

At this thought, Alanna crawled from the bed, thinking to get a glass of water before trying to sleep again. Her progress was impeded by two strong hands pulling her back to bed.

"What's wrong, love? You're not getting cold feet, surely." Jon wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. Alanna buried her head in his chest.

"No. Of course not."

"Have you been worrying about what people think of you again?" Alanna didn't answer. "Sweetheart, I've told you, they're going to love you. Honestly. Who wouldn't?"

"Plenty of people don't. Why should they even merely accept someone who 'cheated' her way to her position?"

"Alanna. You and I both know that's not true. So who cares what everyone else thinks? Go back to sleep. It'll be fine. I promise. I love you." He stroked her hair comfortingly until she fell asleep.

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The sun was up when Alanna woke again. She saw a note for her lying on Jon's pillow, and picked it up. 

"_Sweetheart,_

_You slept late, and I didn't want to wake you. Cythera will be here in a bit to help you get ready. Breakfast should be waiting for you in the dining room._

_I love you."_

"At least he left a note instead of using Gift-spiders to wake me up," she mused as she went to find her breakfast.

Cythera knocked at the front door about fifteen minutes later. Alanna opened with slight apprehension – while she was comfortable wearing skirts, she had never gotten comfortable with wearing lots of face paint. Cythera chuckled as she saw Alanna's face. "Don't worry, I won't go too crazy."

An hour and a half later, Cythera gasped as she stared at Alanna, who was finally ready for her wedding. Alanna glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. "No really, Alanna! Look in the mirror!"

Alanna turned to stare at her reflection. Her jaw dropped. Gone was the image she had known and expected – a small redhead with odd eyes, and a boyish body. She saw a lady she almost didn't recognize staring back at her. She was wearing a strapless gown of ivory satin. The gown hugged her curves before gracefully cascading to the floor. Her flaming hair was pulled back into an elegant bun, with a couple strands curled and framing her face. Alanna gasped as she looked into her own face. Her eyes seemed brighter, her lashes longer – there were countless little differences she noticed. Bright diamond, amethyst, and sapphire earrings hung from her ears, and a matching necklace was draped around her neck.

"Well what do you think?" Cythera asked, grinning.

"Cythera, that can't be me."

"Oh, but it is! If our dear King doesn't have heart failure, then he's not a man." The woman's face took on a thoughtful look. "Actually, Jon might have to beat some of the younger knights off you. I'm serious."

Alanna looked at Cythera, disbelief etched in every line of her face, and fainted.

"If she creased the dress, I am going to kill her – Queen to be, or not," Cythera muttered darkly.

* * *

The Temple of the Great Mother Goddess was full of roses – red, white, pink, even a couple of bluish-purple ones. The "purple" roses were odd, but appropriate for the occasion. The color of the roses matched the color of the ribbons lining the pews full of gaudily dressed courtiers. 

Two shields – one with a tin crown on a blue field, the other with a golden lioness rearing on a red background – hung over the doors. The priest of Mithros looked slightly out of place in his cloth-of-gold garments, as he stood before the silver altar. The priestess of the Goddess looked calmly out over the crowd, wearing robes she hadn't worn for twenty years. Or so Eleni Cooper had claimed right before the wedding. Jonathan grinned slightly as he remembered Myles giving his lady a dose of her own Calming Tea two minutes later.

Jonathan turned as the organ started, signaling the entrance of the bride. His jaw dropped, and next to him, Gary whistled softly. Jonathan smiled as Alanna's gaze met his, and she smiled in return. He hardly noticed when the Mithran priest began his part of the ceremony, blessing the congregation.

The blessing changed – Eleni was speaking now, something about "bless the couple who seek to be united." Jonathan tried to pay attention, but found he couldn't, instead staring in wonder at the woman he loved, and who was binding herself to him. He wanted to hold her, kiss her without end….

The priest was droning again, and the King heard some of the words, but his dazed mind couldn't make sense of them: _… and to hold… sickness and in health…do us part?_ When he didn't respond, Alanna nudged his foot gently.

"I do." He placed her ring – matching the rest of her jewelry, and engraved with the words _My heart is forever yours_ – on her slim finger.

The question was repeated for Alanna, who looked tearful as she quietly responded, "I do, forever and for always." Jon felt as if he had fallen in love with Alanna all over again as she slid the simple band onto his finger, her eyes never leaving his.

The bride and groom were so wrapped up in their own feelings of love and ultimate joy that neither noticed the blinding silver light spring into being at the altar. But everyone else noticed an impossibly beautiful woman with emerald eyes and long black hair had appeared in front of the royal couple. Instinctively, everyone knelt as the Goddess continued the service saying, "Take care to honor thy love in all times and situations. May you be blessed with good fortune for the rest of your days, and may you rule justly and with honor."

She beckoned to a page standing in a corner. A small, ornately carved box of rosewood rested in his hands. He looked at the Goddess in incredulity, wondering why she would call on someone as unimportant as he – until he remembered what he was holding. He moved forward slowly. The Goddess smiled slightly, and he moved a little faster, holding the box up to her. From inside it, she took a beautiful silver tiara. She placed the tiara on Alanna's head, whispered something in her ear, and disappeared.

Eleni looked slightly amused at the shock she saw in the faces of the congregation. Quietly, she spoke: "Your Majesty, you may kiss your Queen."

Jonathan softly kissed his bride, relishing in his love for her, and her love for him. As cheers and whistles broke out, it seemed as if nothing strange or unusual had happened. Rose petals flew through the air as Jon carried Alanna out of the Temple.

It was only hours later, as they lay in bed that Jonathan remembered to ask Alanna what the Goddess had said.

"She said two things. The first was not to doubt myself."

"I can't agree with that more." He kissed her hair gently.

"The second was this: 'You have good taste. I admit, at this moment I am tempted to take you out of the picture and make him mine instead.'"

"What?!"

"You did ask. I only told you what she told me."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. No matter what."

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**A/N: There you go: a glorious wedding written just for you readers!!! Now you just have to tell me what you thought...Review please!!!!**


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